


Come One, Come All

by taegyungie



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Circus, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Internalized Homophobia, Jazz Age, M/M, Slow Burn, tragic backstories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-01 10:04:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 35,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8620282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taegyungie/pseuds/taegyungie
Summary: Kyungsoo runs away with the circus, in search of an adventure. Little did he know his greatest adventure would be in the form of a lithe and graceful acrobat who turns his life upside down.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I essentially just took jazz age 1920's American culture and threw it on Korea. I have no idea what Korean culture was like in the 1920's but I'm borrowing American Roaring Twenties culture just for the aesthetic.
> 
> (I'll be posting new chapters every Monday and Friday)

Kyungsoo needs this.

 

Or so, that’s what Minseok and Jongdae said, dragging him out of his apartment, giving him barely enough time to slip his shoes on. “You’re working too hard, my friend,” Minseok had said with his hand flat against his back, right between his shoulder blades. “You need to take a break,” he’d said, closing the gate to the elevator once they were safely inside.

 

“You’re already top of the class,” Jongdae had added, fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve. A stylish cream shirt, expensive fabric on an expensive young man, as always. “No need for you to keep studying so hard.”

 

“Actually, that’s precisely the reason I should be studying,” Kyungsoo had retorted. He had no idea where they were planning on taking him. He had no interest in asking. His rich, educated, well-to-do young friends dragging their rich, educated, well-to-do Kyungsoo to some lackluster adventure. It’s nothing new.

 

Unlike his friends, however, Kyungsoo is a terribly hard worker. Unlike dear Minseok and Jongdae, Kyungsoo’s family hadn’t always been filthy rich. Rather, it was in his late teens that his father had stumbled upon some successful stocks, enough money flowing in to shower Kyungsoo’s mother in pearl necklaces and fund Kyungsoo’s education. The man was going to be a doctor, and that was that.

 

And it’s nearing the end of his final year of pre-med. Sure, he already has a secure spot reserved for him in Medical School, but it’s 1921, there’s so much for Kyungsoo to learn, to achieve, to complete. Fooling around with his silly friends, despite how delightful they can be, is not something he really has time for at this point in time. He should be invested in a textbook, right now, educating himself on recent discoveries, newfound knowledge. This isn’t the 19th century anymore, after all.

 

Yet, here he is, walking up the gravel path toward a humongous red-and-white striped tent. The spring air is crisp and fresh, the smell and taste of the promises of something new. New growth, new blossoms, new life. Debatably Kyungsoo’s favourite time of year. The sun is setting somewhere off to the left of the sky, kissing the blue expanse above them with the faintest tint of a timid pink. Debatably Kyungsoo’s favourite type of sunset.

 

“See? You’re already feeling better,” Minseok says, pulling a sleek silver flask out of the breast pocket of his smart, suede jacket. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. He doesn’t know what it is, but everyone has gone completely bonkers over booze ever since prohibition first took place. Some sort of rebellion against the government, proving the authority wrong, that they can never take alcohol away. He hopes this phase doesn’t last. 

 

“I can’t believe you’re dragging me to a circus,” Kyungsoo grumbles. Despite the beautiful evening, his mood hasn’t entirely inflated. He’s still Do Kyungsoo, after all. He takes after his father, although sometimes he wishes he were as whimsical and folly as his beautiful mother.

 

God rest her soul.

 

“What? The circus is great! I used to love it as a kid!” Jongdae reaches for Minseok’s flask. He takes a swig, his expression sour, before offering it to Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo declines.

 

“We’re in our twenties, fellas,” Kyungsoo shakes his head, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “I’m not quite sure we fit into the desired audience.”

 

Minseok audibly rolls his eyes. “Just get yourself some damn cotton candy and quit your grumbling. You exhaust me.”

 

Kyungsoo takes the opportunity to wander on his own. They just pass the makeshift welcoming gates when Kyungsoo ventures to his left to admire the attractions. Fairy lights are absolutely  _ everywhere  _ as children skip and shriek around his feet. He can hear Jongdae’s loud laughter from somewhere behind him and he’s sure the two of them are probably drunk already. The path leading to the tent is littered with booths of food and games, all run by men with white faces, red lips, and cartoon eyes. There’s something haunting yet amusing about studying them, Kyungsoo finds. He entertains the idea that a clown’s anatomy is made entirely different than that of a man’s; lungs made of balloons and a heart of candy. 

 

He finds himself smiling, despite himself. It’s something about the carnival music singing through the crisp evening air, the men on stilts earning giggles from admiring children, the taste of the cotton candy sweet on his tongue. It’s utterly enchanting.

 

He finally makes his way into the tent, only to discover the thing appears almost bigger on the inside. There really is something absolutely magical about a circus. He wanders along the border, where all the supporting attractions are. Kyungsoo pauses in front of a magic show that’s part way through.  _ The Park Twins _ , the sign at the edge of the stage says. He somehow pushes his way through the crowd to get a decent view.

 

A young man with gangly limbs and an electric smile dominates the stage, accompanied by a beautiful woman with an identical grin and a glint in her eye. He figures they can’t possibly be twins, though definitely siblings, but they appear close enough in age to have everyone else fooled. Not Kyungsoo. He’s not easy to trick.

 

They’re vastly entertaining, with the man’s booming and endearing voice leading his assistant through the tricks. She’s absolutely dazzling in her glittery blue dress, stark white stockings hugging her long and lean legs. He’s glad he’s not here with Jongdae and Minseok. Hardly a drop of alcohol in them would have the duo hollering and howling at the pretty thing.

 

He moves on, stopping to read a sign outside of a sheltered booth. The inside is dimly lit, a warm golden light leaking through the door, inching along the floor. The sign intrigues him. 

 

_ Come Inside _

_ If You Dare _

_ I’ll Buy Your Dreams _

_ If You’re Willing to Share _

 

He doesn’t really have any dreams to sell, but he enters, anyway. Before him is a table with a deep-red, silk table cloth thrown over it, a crystal ball that’s glowing gold, glitter swimming in circles inside it is all that lights the tent. At the table sits a young-looking face. His smile is crooked and tainted with something mischievous. His dark hair is tucked under some ridiculous looking hat, his thin shoulders draped in a gaudy looking robe.

 

“Welcome to The Fantastic Mr. Byun’s fortress.” That voice. Every syllable is laced with something sultry, something secretive; like he knows everything about you and you should be worried. Kyungsoo runs his hands over the front of his jacket, feeling for his wallet. Just the way he’s speaking, it’s like he’s already robbed him of everything he owns.

 

“Hardly a fortress,” Kyungsoo responds, making a show of glancing all around the small quarters. The man’s eyes narrow, the corners of his lips twitching into a twisted little smirk.

 

“A clever little one, you are,” he purrs. “You must think you’re so smart, little one.”

 

“I’m also not that little.”

 

“Would you like me to read your fortune?” Whiplash. Kyungsoo’s head spins at how quickly the other man changed the subject. 

 

He blinks a few times. “What’ll it cost me?”

 

That smirk again. Kyungsoo entertains the idea that his anatomy is different from a man’s. He’s entirely made of snakes and secrets.

 

“I’ll tell you your future for free,” his words are drawn out, stretched in the most hypnotizing way, “if you sell me some of your dreams.”

 

Kyungsoo needs a moment to collect the words from where they float around his head. It’s completely mad, how good this fellow is at his job. “I’m afraid I haven’t anything interesting for you.”

 

“Shame. Five dollars.”

 

Kyungsoo fishes his wallet out from his breast pocket. The Fantastic Mr. Byun’s eyes burn into his every move, a searing heat that Kyungsoo despises. He feels irrevocably uneasy, yet infallibly intrigued. Curiosity killed the cat. The young man seated proudly in front of him exploits curiosity. He’s hopeless. 

 

“Excellent,” the young man’s tone teeters a little bit in the presence of money. He boldly grabs it from Kyungsoo’s grip, rubbing it between his fingers before shoving it into the pocket of his robe. “Now let’s take a look at that future of yours.”

 

Kyungsoo is fully aware that he cannot see the future. That does not stop him from inching forward in his seat, however. 

 

It’s enough to have Kyungsoo’s eyes rolling, the way the fortune teller circles his hands around the glowing ball. He milks it, gazing into the ball as if it contains the universe itself. Kyungsoo doesn't miss the way the fortune teller keeps stealing glances at him, though. 

 

“A man of logic. Education,” he muses, watching the glitter swirl around below his palms. “Searching for something bigger. Meaning, perhaps?” 

 

A pause. Kyungsoo watches the ball to avoid the fortune teller’s eyes. 

 

“No.” The normally sly tone of his voice dissipates into that of assurance, completely factual. “Romance.”

 

Kyungsoo snorts. “I’m no romantic.”

 

That god forsaken smirk again. Kyungsoo’s body fills to the brim with the need to swipe it right off his lips. Put it in his pocket and use it when he needs it, himself. 

 

“Not yet.”

 

So the fortune teller turned out to be a total waste of five dollars. Kyungsoo isn't sure why he's disappointed. It's not as though he really expected anything of value to come out of it. It's nothing but a man in costume looking at a fancy lamp. It's the circus fever. It makes everything seem as though magic really does exist. 

 

“There you are!” Jongdae announces. Kyungsoo spins on his heel. There the two of them are, their collars unbuttoned, their hair astray, looking utterly inebriated. They cling to one another, chuckling over something, before reaching out to cling to Kyungsoo. 

 

“Soo, my friend!” Minseok grins. They continue walking, passing the pony rides. “Are you having fun yet?”

 

Kyungsoo pinches his face into a sour expression. “You smell like whiskey.”

 

“That's because I was drinkin’ whiskey,” Minseok grins, cocking an eyebrow. “Great observation, Sherlock.”

 

“Don't test your luck with me,” Kyungsoo teases, despite his grin. His friends get under his skin, no doubt, but he loves them regardless. 

 

“You have so many buttons to push,” Jongdae pipes in. “It's terribly fun, trying to push as many as we can.”

 

“Glad I could be of such amusement,” Kyungsoo says wryly. “Come along, you drunks, the show is about to start.”

 

He somehow manages to wrangle the two of them into a spot on the bleachers, waiting with the other circus-goers for the main attraction to begin. Kyungsoo can't deny the bit of anticipation growing in his chest, the toes of his shoes grinding some abandoned popcorn into the ground. The centre ring remains empty, although the small orchestra situated at the far end of the ring have begun their opening notes; a crescendo gradually raising in volume. The crowd starts cheering. 

 

The ring leader is quite a sight to behold, in his bright red waistcoat and top hat. His naturally puckered lips pull into a dazzling, dimpled smile, his voice pretty and inviting as he welcomes everyone to the show. Kyungsoo is unprecedentedly excited. 

 

A girl with a stylish little pageboy cut and boyish clothes enters the ring, accompanied by Jamba The Elephant. Kyungsoo audibly coos at the sight of the animal languidly wandering in, trunk wrapped possessively around the hand of the girl leading him. Jongdae is absolutely hilarious, next to him, cooing and shouting and laughing at the elephant’s little outfit; a purple fez and vest. 

 

The pair of them are vastly entertaining. The elephant obeys every one of her commands, the tricks being equal parts adorable and impressive. It's just as amusing, Kyungsoo thinks, the way Jamba’s ears flap excitedly at each of her praises. 

 

Then it's the lion tamer. The piece that has every audience member on the edge of their seat. Even Minseok, who was somewhat dozing off during the elephant tricks is completely enraptured by the way the man - small, handsome, kind-looking - holds his hand out for the dangerous creature. The lion, though, seems to have nothing but love and trust for the man in the blue suit. He guides her through little obstacle courses, he commands her to perform tricks, she never fights back. When they close their segment with an earth-shaking roar, Kyungsoo can't help but hoot and holler his praises.

 

Okay, so maybe he is having a little bit of fun. 

 

Kyungsoo finds the ring leader indescribably charming. As he wanders into the centre ring between every segment to applaud the previous and announce the next, Kyungsoo finds his attention entirely drawn to him. He commands the ring so effortlessly. Even from where he sits in the bleachers, Kyungsoo can see how much his eyes sparkle. 

 

“And now, ladies and gentlemen,” He begins, raising his cane and gesturing at the crowd of onlookers. “I’m pleased to announce our productions finest showcase of absolute magic!” 

 

A cheer from the crowd. 

 

“Besides, of course, our incredible Park Twins! Did you lovely folks see them before the show?”

 

Another cheer. 

 

“Glad to hear it. Now, our amazing acrobats!”

 

Whatever inkling of Kyungsoo’s belief in magic remained is suddenly restored. He could be just elated from the quality entertainment, and maybe it's a sugar high from the cotton candy. But what he's witnessing is without a doubt, inarguably, undeniably  _ magic.  _

 

Kyungsoo prides himself on his knowledge of the human body’s limitations. These - for lack of a better word - magicians in front of him are entirely disregarding said limitations. Their bodies contort and flip and twist in unimaginable ways. The women are dressed up like pretty fairies, the men in skin-hugging tights. The lot of them have glitter on the high points of their faces, making them appear ethereal, wonderful, other-worldly. 

 

The trapeze artist, though. The one that was introduced as Kai, with golden skin and long limbs. He has Kyungsoo absolutely entranced. It's not just the way he positively flies above their heads, but the cut of muscle around his shoulders, his soft bone structure. He's possibly the most beautiful thing Kyungsoo has ever seen. 

 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Jongdae squints up at Kai. “That's Kim Jongin. Kid grew up down the street from me.”

 

“Who, Kai?” Kyungsoo inquires. He feels his heart doing backflips, for some strange reason. 

 

“Yeah,” Jongdae says slowly, still studying the trapeze artist with furrowed brows. “I may be drunk, but I’d recognize the kid anywhere. Ran away from home when he was fourteen.”

 

Kyungsoo doesn't dig for more information, for fear of providing Minseok and Jongdae with ammunition against him. The last thing he needs is the pair of them teasing him over some imaginary crush. He can’t possibly have a crush on the young man (emphasis on the word  _ man _ ), he’s merely intrigued by him. Fascinated. 

 

By the time the three of them are following the crowd out toward the parking lot, the sky has long gone dark. The stars are brilliant, out in this expanse of field. The moon shines proudly above them, the sky a magical sight to conclude such a magical day. 

 

Kyungsoo manages to take the keys to Minseok’s stylish blue car, driving each of them home before deciding to drive himself home. Minseok can get the car tomorrow, that drunk. Kyungsoo feels nothing but relief when he's in the comfort of his own flat, not bothering to change before collapsing into bed. 

 

And if Kyungsoo dreams of tanned skin and lean muscle that night, no one is to know. 

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder that I will be updating this fic every Monday and Friday

This just may have been the worst year of Kyungsoo’s life. And the lad hasn't exactly had it easy. 

 

It started with the onslaught of the new school year. He met a pretty thing named Seulgi, who happened to be the daughter of one of his professors. He really thought he liked her, only to realize he didn't like her enough. The look on her face when he suggested going separate ways was enough to send Kyungsoo’s heart leaping up into his throat. His professor, he’s certain, has decidedly not graded him fairly since. 

 

His education this year is tinting the skin beneath his eyes a blackish blue and dragging his shoulders as close to the ground as they can get. When he sleeps, he feels like he's suffocating. When he’s awake, he feels like gravity has decided it would be fun to grind him into the dirt. For the first time in Kyungsoo’s life, he despises the idea of learning. He wishes he could strike a match and let the flames have their way with his textbooks. And quite possibly his university. 

 

As if the year couldn't get any worse, February rolled around, along with the second year anniversary of his mother’s death. Not only was he grieving the loss of his mother, but he always dreads going home to visit his family. Nothing has been the same since. 

 

And this time, particularly, Kyungsoo’s father was ecstatic to introduce his lovely new girlfriend. A woman not much older than Kyungsoo. Her voice is shrill and demanding and the way she kept touching the precious pearl necklace that once belonged to his mother, now clasped around her thin neck, made Kyungsoo want to vomit. They're to be married come autumn. 

 

Kyungsoo’s father is a strange man. At first, it was a breath of fresh air, taking a break from the new fiancée in order to go visit the gravesite. His father, though, is not much of a comfort. With a clearing of his throat, all he said was, “Your mother was a beautiful woman. It's a shame things come and go.”

 

Kyungsoo had stared at his father blankly, hands shoved into the pockets of his coat. It struck Kyungsoo, then, just how similar he is to his father. He's reserved and smart and stoic. Without the presence of his mother anymore, every last bit of whimsy and wonder had fluttered out of his life. The air was cold and brittle that day, but Kyungsoo is certain it got even colder alongside the realization. 

 

So, now, Kyungsoo wanders along the newly-blossoming campus of his university, fashionable leather bag slung over his shoulder. The weather is starting to warm up again, thank goodness. Kyungsoo doesn't handle the cold well. He’s also excited to see the signs of spring considering as the May flowers begin, the school year comes to an end. He feels grumpy, despite the warm embrace of the sun. A side effect to an awful year. 

 

A flyer on orange paper, stapled haphazardly to a telephone pole, catches his eye. He saunters over to it, immediately smiling at what he reads. The same circus he went to a year ago has come back around to his city. That circus happens to be one of his few good memories over the course of the past year. Particularly as of late, though, he's been thinking a lot about it. 

 

Since his visit with his father, he’s concluded that the only source of joy and magic he’s experienced since his mother passed away came from the fairy lights and carnival music of the travelling circus. He misses having something to feel joyful about. He misses having a taste of wonder and imagination. His mother used to think up the most outrageous stories, tell the silliest jokes, remind Kyungsoo to never stop dreaming. 

 

He’s not sure at what point he did. 

 

A small group of bodies hustle past him, shaking him out of his thoughts. He’s not sure how long he’s been standing there looking at this flyer, but he’s certain it’s long enough. Before turning away, though, he takes one last glance, shrugging his bag further up his shoulders. They’ll be here for a few more days. It’s unlikely Kyungsoo will find anyone willing to go with him, and with his current schedule, it’s unlikely he’ll be able to go at all. This knowledge floods him with a strange kind of sadness.

 

It isn’t until he’s eating a poorly cooked meal by himself a couple days later, that he realizes it. He’s alone in his apartment, chewing on a mouthful of undercooked pasta, reading over his notes on carcinomas, feeling indescribably bored.

 

Kyungsoo sighs to nobody, as his apartment is empty, as always. “Everything is so… drab.”

 

He gets up, tossing the rest of his noodles in a bin and throwing his dish in the sink. Everything is so plain and ordinary and grey and dull and he’s tired. Kyungsoo is tired of waking up every morning and pretending he’s excited for the day. He’s tired of dinners that are lonely and taste awful. He’s tired of studying things he already knows. He’s tired of his life being so unbelievably ordinary that even the air he’s breathing tastes recycled. 

 

“Oh… fuck it,” He mutters to himself, gazing about the small and modest flat. Kyungsoo isn’t normally one to curse, but sometimes the situation calls for it.

 

He stalks over to his wardrobe, violently and messily shoving clothes and underwear into a cloth bag. The bag isn’t very big. But, he doesn’t feel any sort of loss at the fact that he’ll be leaving behind so much. With that thought, he scrambles over to his desk, fumbling through it to find a pen and some paper. Quickly, he scribbles down a letter, informing the receiver that they can do what they will with everything in this apartment. Keep it, sell it, whatever they desire. He seals it in an envelope along with the key, addresses it to his father, grabs his framed photo of he and his mother when he was a child, stuffs it in his bag, and makes his way for his door.

 

With a final glance over his shoulder, he exits his home for the previous four years. He realizes, as he shuts the door behind him, that he’s leaving behind everything this life has given him so far. And he’s never felt so liberated.

 

No matter how cliche he finds it, Do Kyungsoo is about to run away with the circus.

 

\-----

 

It looks a lot like last year, as far as he remembers. It’s equally as magical, that’s for sure. The sunset is a vivid coral this time, though, and the men on stilts are wearing green instead of the red from last year. But the carnival music and the twinkling lights and the laughter of children and adults alike; that hasn’t changed one bit. 

 

He decides to wander, grateful the bag is small and light, weaving through the crowds of people to check out the attractions. He buys some cotton candy from a clown that has one of the most radiant smiles he’s ever seen and makes his way inside the tent.

 

The first stop is the magic show. How could he forget the tall and gangly magician with a smile as bright as the sun and a voice that could shake mountains? He still demands the stage as charming as before. The sign doesn’t read  _ The Park Twins  _ anymore, however. It simply reads  _ Magic Show _ . Kyungsoo finds that quite peculiar, furrowing his brow and returning his attention to the show. 

 

And, oh, that’s why. His sister is nowhere in sight. She was replaced by the girl Kyungsoo recognizes as the elephant trainer, who looks humorously uncomfortable in that little blue dress. She looks pretty, but her blatant discomfort is making Kyungsoo feel a tad guilty.

 

He moves along, coming up to a familiar tent with a familiar riddle on the sign out front. He stops in front of it for a moment. There’s not a chance in hell he’s going back in there. That’s the one thing he isn’t looking forward to by leaving with the circus. He hopes he can avoid the Fantastic Mr. Byun as much as possible. He certainly hasn’t forgotten how uneasy he felt in the fortune teller’s presence. 

 

This time, he takes his time exploring, studying, observing. He stops to watch the pony rides, for a bit. They’re run by a pretty young woman, Kyungsoo notices, who smiles warmly at the children and speaks to the horses in Chinese. He actually takes a good look at the small orchestra, this time. There’s only five of them, which Kyungsoo guesses makes them a quintet, four men and one woman. She’s pretty and petite, her hair cut into a fashionable bob, her smile sweet as she chats with the cello player next to her, violin resting in her lap. Kyungsoo hadn’t noticed it before, but there are so many people who work here. It’s not just the clowns and the performers. There are men cleaning up messes and probably set up and take down the entire thing every city. Now that is a laboursome job.

 

The show is just as entertaining. The ring leader with the sparkling eyes is just as charming as the year before. Kyungsoo finds Jamba the Elephant just as cute, and admires the trainer for managing to rush out - in her own clothes - from the magic show to this. Busy little lass, she is. It’s all just as wonderful. The lion tamer, the orchestra, and, of course, the acrobats. 

 

Kai has Kyungsoo equally as mystified as the year before. The way he moves and flies and twists and bends. It's utterly hypnotizing. It takes all of Kyungsoo’s effort to peel his eyes away in order to sneak out while the workers are all busy. He shuffles his way through the bleachers, apologizing to everyone he passes, before making his way out of the tent and toward the nearby train. 

 

The sky has darkened immensely since he went in, and now the moon hangs proudly above him, a perfect crescent. He smiles to himself thinking of the Cheshire Cat, from his favourite book growing up. See? Already, he’s feeling better. 

 

He finds an open carriage, the heavy metal sliding door on the side of the cart just hardly ajar, the light of a lamp peeking through. This will do just fine. It takes a bit of an effort, sliding it open, enough to earn a grunt from his chest. He steps inside, glancing around. It’s a smaller cart, though big enough to have a bathroom connected to the small living quarters. Nothing much more than a bunk bed, a trunk, and a small desk with a lamp and some books on it. He notes that it’s poorly climatized, a bit damp, and probably absolute torture in the winter. He’ll deal with that when the time comes.

 

He leaves the door a smidge open, just as he’d found it. He hears the music come to a climax and then a stop, signalling the end of the show. Kyungsoo plops himself down onto his rear, watching through the crack in the door as spectators file out in large numbers, chattering amongst themselves excitedly. He watches as the circus closes down for the night, everyone working together to carry tents and booths and tables to the carts at the far end of the train, most likely the storage carts. The large tent stays up, though. Kyungsoo assumes they’ll be tearing down tomorrow to make way for the next city. The thought floods Kyungsoo with a sense of complete excitement.

 

He can hear footsteps approaching, as well as a deep voice that sounds like the magician bidding whoever is walking with him good night. Kyungsoo panics, scrambling away from the door, tossing his bag under the bed and sliding underneath with it. He makes it just in time, as the second he’s secure under the bed, the door slides open. He can’t see anything but the person’s feet, but he can hear a sweet and husky singing voice as they sing in a hush to themselves. The voice is far too light and airy to be the magicians.

 

Time passes. He lays there in silence, listening to the other person’s pretty singing voice as he goes about his nightly routine, in and out of the bathroom, fumbling around in the trunk for something to wear to bed. Kyungsoo’s brows furrow as he tries to figure out who it is that resides in this room. But then the person is undressing, and a gaudy, purple, silken robe is dropped to the floor.

 

God damn it.

 

Of course Kyungsoo would find himself in The Fantastic Mr. Byun’s bunker, of all places. Of course that happened to be the only cart left open. The idea that the fortune teller did it on purpose, that he was expecting him, flickers briefly through his head before he’s shaking it off. Ridiculous. He shames himself for even thinking such a thing.

 

Soon, the bed above him is creaking and groaning under the weight of the fortune teller and the singing subsides. Kyungsoo kind of misses the noise. There’s no sense in denying the fellow has a lovely voice. He can hear breathing above him, as well as an occasional hum from the fortune teller, who clearly still has music ringing in his mind. Kyungsoo’s not sure how long he can last, down here, as his hips are starting to ache from being curled up on the floor. He  _ had  _ intended on popping out and introducing himself eventually, but upon discovering who his roommate is, he’s trying to postpone that as long as possible.

 

That is, until, he takes in a breath that pulls in dust bunnies. He’s coughing before he realizes it. The fortune teller is yelping and flying off the bed in record time, fumbling backwards into the trunk.

 

“Who’s there?” He demands. Kyungsoo’s eyes are still watering but he smiles to himself at the sound of his voice without that awful, sly tone. He slides out from under the bed, standing up erect and brushing off the front of his clothes with his hands. He looks up at the fortune teller to see his face flicker over numerous emotions before settling upon one that looks something like amusement. Kyungsoo, once again, feels totally uneasy. “Oh, little one,” he purrs.

 

“How,” Kyungsoo stutters, furrowing his brow and reaching under the bed to grab his bag. “How do you remember me?”

 

The fortune teller’s lips pull into the most mischievous smirk Kyungsoo’s ever seen. It really does amaze him, how impossible it is to get used to the sticky atmosphere that seems to constantly follow the fortune teller around. “Magic.”

 

“Ha-ha,” Kyungsoo says flatly. He feels awkward, standing in front of the fortune teller who’s in nothing but an undershirt and a pair of boxers. He realizes now that the man in front of him has no grounds to call him “little one” as he may be barely a centimetre taller than Kyungsoo. 

 

“I had a feeling I’d see you again,” the fortune teller chimes, slinking over to sit on the edge of the bed and goading Kyungsoo to sit down next to him. Kyungsoo only complies because standing out in the open makes him feel vulnerable. “I liked you, you know. You made quite the impression on me, last year.”

 

Kyungsoo blinks, his mouth gone completely dry. “Oh, really?”

 

“Mhm,” he hums, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. For the most part, he’s not as manipulative and terrifying as he is while he’s working, but he still radiates mischief and sweetness. Not a good sweetness. The Witch’s Candy House kind of sweetness. Honey in a fly trap kind of sweetness. “I found you quite interesting. You came to me wanting to hear something you couldn’t admit to yourself. And even when I said it aloud for you, you shrugged it off and left in a huff. I thought to myself ‘hey, if only there were something I could do to help out Grumpy Dwarf, here.’”

 

Kyungsoo scoffs, swatting at his arm. “Don’t ever call me Grumpy Dwarf again.”

 

“It fits you remarkably well, though.”

 

“Everything is terrible,” Kyungsoo groans, burying his face in his hands. “You’re the  _ last  _ person I wanted to get stuck with. Why did you even leave your door open, anyway?”

 

He doesn’t have to look over to know the fortune teller is smirking that awful smirk when he says, “I can see the future, little one, I knew you were coming.”

 

Kyungsoo drops his hands, then, glaring over at the fortune teller who looks immeasurably amused. “I know for a fact that you cannot see the future, you imbecile.”

 

The fortune teller laughs, then, his husky and sticky voice breaking into a loud cackle. “I always keep my door open for strays,” he replies with a shrug. “It’s been awful lonely since Junmyeon moved into Sunyoung’s cart.”

 

Kyungsoo blinks at the unfamiliar names. “Who?”

 

A low giggle, then, “Junmyeon is the lion tamer, Sunyoung is the acrobat named Luna. They got married in December”

 

“Ah, alright.”

 

“What’s your name, little one?” The fortune teller asks, then, scooting a tad closer to Kyungsoo.

 

“Kyungsoo,” he swallows thickly. “Do Kyungsoo.” 

 

A show-stopping grin spreads across the fortune teller’s youthful face. “Byun Baekhyun.”

 

Kyungsoo sighs. This isn’t really how he planned for this to go. Honestly, he would love to make arrangements to bunk in someone else’s room, but he fears offending the young man. Baekhyun, that is. Knowing his name does not make Kyungsoo feel any less uneasy.

 

“I have a feeling we are going to be great pals, Do Kyungsoo.”

 

Kyungsoo huffs out a breath. “I don’t.”

 

Baekhyun starts blabbering at Kyungsoo to lighten up, wandering around the room to gather things to make Kyungsoo's stay more comfortable. He pulls out a set of sheets from the bottom of his trunk, also claiming that there’s plenty of extra space in the trunk for Kyungsoo to put his things. He continues talking while he puts together the top bunk for him, he continues talking when he turns away to give Kyungsoo some privacy while he changes into his pajamas, he continues talking even as they settle into bed. Kyungsoo wonders if Baekhyun  _ ever  _ stops talking.

 

“So, do you have any talent?” Baekhyun says after a few precious moments of silence. Kyungsoo grieves the short-lived quiet, staring up at the ceiling from where he lays under the sheets. The bed is surprisingly quite comfortable.

 

He blinks a few times. He hadn’t really thought that through. What if the circus has no use for him? There’s no chance they’ll house him and feed him if he isn’t working for them. Panic floods his systems as he begins to stammer, searching for a response.

 

“Whoa, calm down, friend,” Baekhyun purrs. “It’s all swell, we can find work for you.”

 

“Sorry,” Kyungsoo mutters.

 

“No need,” Baekhyun says, casually. Really, as casually as his naturally sultry sound allows. “Hey, what were you studying?”

 

“What? How do you know I was-”

 

Baekhyun’s loud sigh from the bunk below him interrupts him mid-sentence. “You really must give me some credit, little one. I do happen to be good at my job, and extremely perceptive. You’re a studious and serious person. Were you studying law?”

 

“To be a doctor.”

 

There’s a prolonged moment of silence. Kyungsoo cherishes it, quickly recognizing the rarity of such a thing. He’s so used to his quiet apartment, having someone to relentlessly chat his ear off is yanking at his nerves and setting him on edge. 

 

“That’s excellent,” Baekhyun positively sings, voice thick and heady and tainted with so much more than just two words. “We’ll figure everything out tomorrow,” he sighs, dreamily. Kyungsoo can hear him shuffling about under his covers to get comfortable. “Good night, Do Kyungsoo.”

 

Kyungsoo doesn’t bother to say good night. He intends to ensure that he experiences silence for as long as possible. Baekhyun still manages to be a tad noisy in his sleep, he discovers, as he has the most fitful sleep of his life.

 

\-----

 

“Look sharp,” Baekhyun chimes, proceeding to lightly slap Kyungsoo’s cheeks a few times to wake him up. “I’m introducing you to everyone today, there are a lot of names you’ll need to remember.”

 

Kyungsoo groans, fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve. When he’d slipped it over his shoulders, Baekhyun had made a playful comment about how he was such a fancy man with fancy clothes. Kyungsoo undeniably hates Baekhyun.

 

He follows the young man into the dining cart, where a large number are crowded in for breakfast. Baekhyun immediately begins telling Kyungsoo who absolutely everyone is, and it’s far too much for Kyungsoo to absorb this early in the day. All he remembers is the pretty violinist named Taeyeon and the clown with the dazzling smile with a name that was so long Baekhyun advised him to just call him Ten. Ten is terribly handsome without the face paint, Kyungsoo notes.

 

“This tall drink of water, here, is Chanyeol,” Baekhyun chimes as he slides into an empty spot next to the magician. Kyungsoo hunkers down in the seat across from them, watching with amusement as Baekhyun rips off a piece of Chanyeol’s pancake with his fingers and pops it into his mouth. 

 

“Pleased to meet you…” Chanyeol trails off, his cheeks puffed out with pancakes.

 

“Kyungsoo,” he offers, a bit distracted, wondering where he can find his own breakfast.

 

“Don’t worry, food is coming,” Baekhyun grins, as if he read Kyungsoo’s mind.

 

And food really does come, right in that moment. The elephant trainer plops down in the seat next to Kyungsoo with extra plates of food, placing them in front of Baekhyun, then Kyungsoo, as if she does this every morning.

 

“Why, hello, new face,” She says with amusement, unabashedly eyeing Kyungsoo up and down. “I’m Amber.”

 

Unlike how Kyungsoo feels about Baekhyun, he admires her forwardness. Unlike Baekhyun she’s entirely casual, while Baekhyun always appears to be up to no good. Kyungsoo immediately likes her.

 

“I’m Kyungsoo,” he smiles. “Thank you for the food.”

 

“No worries,” she shrugs as she takes a bite of her own pancakes. “I saw you come in with Baek so I thought it would be the polite thing to do.”

 

They continue to eat. He listens as Baekhyun chatters on about how he remembers Kyungsoo from last year, boasting about how he completely knew that Kyungsoo would return for more. It’s enough to have Kyungsoo’s eyes rolling as he stuffs his face with pancakes, noting that Baekhyun’s breakfast has gone mostly untouched, since he hasn’t stopped running his mouth. He notices, though, that while Chanyeol is attentive to Baekhyun’s story and laughing along, there’s a sadness behind his eyes. It makes Kyungsoo feel a tad hollow.

 

“Say, Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo cuts in. Even Baekhyun stops talking to turn his attention to him. “Where is your sister?”

 

Chanyeol drops his gaze from Kyungsoo to look down at his empty plate. It’s like a slap in the face, and Kyungsoo’s not entirely certain what he did wrong.

 

“Oh, that reminds me,” Baekhyun cuts in, although he was not prompted to speak. It fascinates him, really, how the lad has no shortage of things to say. “Kyungsoo’s a doctor.”

 

“Not quite,” Kyungsoo corrects.

 

“Still, the closest thing we’ve got.” Baekhyun pushes his full plate toward Chanyeol - who accepts it silently - and makes to get out of his seat. “Where’s Yixing?”

 

“Helping the labourers tear down,” Amber replies, allowing room for Kyungsoo to slide out of his seat. 

 

Baekhyun’s smile is unprecedentedly fond, an expression Kyungsoo has yet to encounter on Baekhyun’s ever so animated face. “That Yixing, he just hates sitting idly by while others do all the work, huh?”

 

He has Kyungsoo by the wrist, dragging him toward the exit in no time. Amber calls out after them, telling Baekhyun that Kyungsoo can have her job as they leave the cart without giving Kyungsoo a chance to apologize to Chanyeol. Let alone inquire what he did wrong.

 

“She doesn’t mean the elephant training,” Baekhyun says as they walk along the field. The sun is bright and the sky is remarkably blue, today. Men are wandering about the field, working together to pack everything up and prepare everything for the ride to the next location. “She hates being Chanyeol’s assistant.”

 

“What happened to Chanyeol’s sister?” Kyungsoo insists, practically having to jog to keep up with Baekhyun.

 

“She died last October,” Baekhyun replies. Kyungsoo halts in his tracks, utterly dumbfounded. He has to go back and apologize to Chanyeol. “Don’t worry about it, you can talk to Chanyeol later,” Baekhyun cuts in. How on earth does he do that? “We have to find Yixing. He’d  _ love  _ to meet you.”

 

Kyungsoo doesn’t bother questioning what Baekhyun means by that. Baekhyun always sounds like he never means anything he says, like everything that comes out of his mouth is a riddle. He also is a shameless flirt, Kyungsoo’s noticed. He flirts with everyone, men and women alike, and Kyungsoo thinks it’s probably just the way he speaks. It’s quite peculiar.

 

Soon, they’re approaching a man with broad shoulders and an authoritative stance with his back to them. He stands with his feet apart, his arms crossed over his chest, his white shirt pulled taut across the expanse of his back as he watches a large group of men lift up a few benches from the bleachers together. He turns around when he hears them approaching and Kyungsoo recognizes him as the ring leader. It strikes him how even more handsome he is up close, his brows knit together in concentration, his plump lips pursed into a straight line.

 

“Yixing,” Baekhyun says, stepping in close to him. Kyungsoo observes as Yixing’s expression softens at the sight of Baekhyun. 

 

“Good morning, Baek,” his voice is so sweet. “Who’s your friend?”

 

“Kyungsoo,” he answers before Baekhyun can. He leaves out the fact that he is certainly not Baekhyun’s friend. This Yixing seems to really like Baekhyun, and he doesn’t appear to be the type of person Kyungsoo wants to offend.

 

“He’s a doctor,” Baekhyun says. Kyungsoo sees no point in correcting him, at this point. “With everything that happened with Yura last year, and with Sehun’s sprain, and everything, I think we can really use him.”

 

Kyungsoo is appalled, watching Baekhyun speak in utter fascination. For the first time since Kyungsoo’s met him, Baekhyun sounds completely normal. There isn’t a hint of that sultry, sneaky, snake-like tone in his words at all. He’s completely dropped his all-knowing facade in the face of Yixing.

 

Yixing eyes Kyungsoo contemplatively. It isn’t scrutinizing, though, as Yixing appears to be an incredibly warm person. “Kyungsoo, my friend, are you really willing to work for free?”

 

“I’m uh,” Kyungsoo stutters, eyes flitting about to avoid Yixing’s kind yet persistent gaze. “I’m not a real doctor, only a student. As long as I have a bed and three meals a day, I’ll be more than content.”

 

A dimple appears on Yixing’s cheek as his face lights up into a warm smile. He reaches out to shake Kyungsoo’s hand and Kyungsoo accepts it, not entirely sure why he feels so nervous. Or is that relief?

 

“Welcome to the team, Kyungsoo.”

 

“Oh,” Baekhyun says, poking at Yixing’s side in a friendly manner. “Amber says he can have her job. We can probably dig up some performance clothes somewhere and Chanyeol can teach him some of the tricks before the next show.”

 

It’s still leaving Kyungsoo flabbergasted, how casual and friendly Baekhyun is behaving right now. 

 

Yixing supplies his approval distractedly, studying Baekhyun’s face with furrowed brows. He brings a hand up to cup Baekhyun’s chin, squeezing his cheeks together before turning to Kyungsoo. “He didn’t eat breakfast, did he?”

 

“No,” Kyungsoo chuckles. “He was too busy blabbering on to eat anything.”

 

“Typical Baekhyunnie,” Yixing says fondly, releasing his grip on Baekhyun’s face to ruffle up his hair. “Please go eat something. It worries me how thin you are.”

 

“You’re just jealous of my waistline,” Baekhyun teases, swatting Yixing’s hand away without any force. He looks as if he’s about to say more, but he clamps his mouth shut at the sight of a new person walking up to the three of them. Kyungsoo recognizes her as the woman who was running the pony rides, the one who speaks Chinese to the horses. She looks effortlessly beautiful, without a hint of makeup on her face and her hair pulled back into a lazy bun.

 

Baekhyun quickly bids his goodbyes before grabbing Kyungsoo’s wrist and turning back toward the train. Kyungsoo scrambles to keep up with him, watching the side of his face as Baekhyun holds a steady gaze straight ahead. He has so many questions right now, and he isn’t sure where to start.

 

“That’s Song Qian,” Baekhyun says, voice returning to its regularly roguish inflection. “She’s Chinese, like Yixing. The two of them are pretty much already married.”

 

Is that disdain Kyungsoo hears? Jealousy, maybe? He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, because Baekhyun is still speaking. 

 

“Yura is Chanyeol’s sister. She came down with Tuberculosis last year and when she died she took a little bit of Chanyeol with her. He’ll be okay though,” Baekhyun smiles knowingly to himself. “Chanyeol has the sunniest disposition you’ll ever know.”

 

“And Sehun? And his sprain?” Kyungsoo inquires, feeling as though he should probably do something about it.

 

“That’s where we’re headed,” Baekhyun answers, banging on the door to one of the carts. “This is his bunker. Pretty much all the acrobats are attached at the hip, so they all bunk together.”

 

The door swings open and Kyungsoo is met with the face of the acrobat he recognizes as Krystal. She looks at Kyungsoo questioningly before shrugging and moving aside to let the two of them in. They both climb in, Baekhyun then Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo is met with too many faces looking back at him, all crammed into the numerous bunk beds crowding the walls. 

 

“Everyone, this is Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun jabs his thumb over his shoulder at Kyungsoo. Then he points at Krystal. “This is Soojung,” and he continues, “Taeyong, Taemin, Yoonah, Miyoung, Jaehyun, Jinri, and Kibum.” He pauses as he pushes his way over to the bed where a lanky, pale young man is seated, along with Kai. Kyungsoo swallows thickly, nerves starting to well up within him. “And these two right here are Jongin and of course Sehun.”

 

Kai - Jongin - looks up at Kyungsoo with honeyed eyes. Good honey. Not the Baekhyun kind of honey. It makes Kyungsoo feel incredibly self-conscious, entirely aware of everything he’s doing. 

 

Sehun cocks a perfect eyebrow. “And what might this Kyungsoo be doing here?” There’s a hint of bitterness in his tone and Kyungsoo visibly winces. Jongin turns his gaze away from Kyungsoo, then, blushing the tiniest bit. Kyungsoo tries not to think anything of it and merely reckons it to be shyness.

 

“Kyungsoo’s our new resident doctor,” Baekhyun announces playfully, his tone hinting at something like pride.

 

“Oh,” Sehun sneers. “An educated man. How fancy.”

 

Kyungsoo decides he doesn’t like Sehun. Jongin is still avoiding glances at Kyungsoo. 

 

“Well, Mr. Doctor, I hurt my ankle a few days ago and we’re not quite sure how serious it is,” he teases, mock pout on his lips. Kyungsoo narrows his eyes at him, sizing him up. He’s flirty, like Baekhyun. What is it with these circus folk?

 

“I’ll leave you to it,” Baekhyun sing-songs, patting Kyungsoo on the back. “I better go get something to chew before Yixing kicks my sorry ass.”

 

“Please, you know Yixing could never hurt you,” one of the girls, Jinri, sighs. 

 

“I know,” Baekhyun chimes. “He loves me far too much.”

 

And then he’s gone. Kyungsoo immediately misses him, much to his dismay. He’s certain it’s just the sudden vulnerability, though, now that his honorary guide has stepped away and left him to fend for himself. The other acrobats all turn back to their conversations as Kyungsoo kneels down in front of Sehun, gesturing for Sehun to present his ankle.

 

He can feel two sets of eyes on him as he examines the swelling. He presses down on areas to test for sensitivity, even moves the foot around to check for mobility. It has Sehun positively cussing at him while Jongin giggles to himself, quietly, his hand covering his mouth. The attention from the soft and gentle eyes of Jongin above him has Kyungsoo feeling a bit skittish and he’s unsure why.

 

“God damn it, Bruno,” Sehun hisses at him, his brows drawn in as he yanks his ankle out of Kyungsoo’s grip. “What do they teach you in medical school, torture?”

 

“Only to difficult patients,” Kyungsoo retorts with a smirk on his lips. Sehun looks appalled while Jongin breaks out into another fit of giggles.

 

“I like Kyungsoo,” He says from behind his hands. “He’s mean to you.”

 

Kyungsoo’s chest flutters as he smiles back at Jongin. He’s just as pretty up close, his features soft and his skin positively golden. Kyungsoo is a tad distracted for a moment ‘til he sees Sehun’s hand swat at Jongin’s chest.

 

“You’re a terrible friend,” Sehun says without any malice. “And you’re a terrible doctor.”

 

“On the contrary,” Kyungsoo responds, standing up and brushing the dirt off his knees. “It’s only twisted, keep off it as much as possible but still try to exercise it. If you don’t move it around it’ll grow stiff and weak.”

 

Sehun nods solemnly, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “Thanks, doc.”

 

“Well, I guess I’m no longer needed here,” Kyungsoo sighs, making his way toward the door to go find Baekhyun or Chanyeol or someone. “Pleasure to meet you all.”

 

The acrobats all chime their good-byes to him as he steps out. Jongin, however, remains completely silent, merely watching Kyungsoo go with a bittersweet expression. 

Kyungsoo finds Baekhyun lounging out in the field, his head in Chanyeol’s lap. The labourers are nearly finished and Kyungsoo feels a tad guilty for just standing - or, in Baekhyun’s case, lying - around while all these men do the heavy lifting. He shrugs it off, settling himself down on the grass next to Chanyeol. 

 

“Little one,” Baekhyun beams, a breeze tossing his mess of dark curls this way and that. “Good news! We found a costume for you. It fits me so it’ll most likely fit you.” 

 

“I’ll start teaching you some things tomorrow,” Chanyeol adds, squinting in the sunlight. 

 

“But that's tomorrow,” Baekhyun says playfully, corners of his lips twitching up into a smirk. “This is the first time Kyungsoo’s been with us when the train starts moving.” 

 

“Oh?” Kyungsoo raises his eyebrows in question. 

 

Chanyeol smiles softly at him. That smile is brighter to Kyungsoo than the late-morning sun above him. “We do this every night that we leave a city.”

 

“Tonight,” Baekhyun says, voice exaggerated to mimic an announcer. “We drink!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twitter: taebaekult  
> Tumblr: taetaeofficial


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder this fic will be updated every monday and friday

Taeyeon, the violinist, is devastatingly beautiful. She has herself curled up against Baekhyun’s side at the dining table across from Kyungsoo in the crowded, overheated dining cart. It seems everyone here loves Baekhyun, a peculiar fact that Kyungsoo just can't figure out. He presumes everyone has just fallen into Baekhyun's web of flirtatious antics. He does have a way of goading anyone into thinking what he wants them to think. 

 

If Kyungsoo thought his friends at home drank a lot, he was certainly not prepared for how much the circus folk drink. The two dining carts are crammed full of just about everyone who works here, the doors left open so everyone can go between them as they please. Everyone is sweaty and loud and hilariously plastered. It’s quite entertaining to watch. 

 

Baekhyun gets considerably handsy when he’s drunk. He has an arm wrapped around Taeyeon’s waist, the other hand playing with her hair while she giggles into his shoulder. Kyungsoo doesn't think Baekhyun quite realizes what he’s doing. And while he appears to be such a calculating and manipulative person, seeing him like this leads Kyungsoo to believe that he  _ never _ realizes what he does to people. 

 

While Kyungsoo is vastly entertained by the sight before him - a clumsy and loud drunk Chanyeol, a wild and table-dancing Amber, along with Sunyoung who joined Amber on the table, a drunk but somehow still worrisome Junmyeon onlooking, prepared to catch one of the girls if they fall - his eyes keep wandering over to where Jongin sits a few tables over. Similar to Kyungsoo, he hasn't had a drop of alcohol this evening. He's talking to a tipsy looking Taemin. Or is it Taeyong? How on earth is Kyungsoo supposed to remember all these people? 

 

The record player in the corner of the carriage is playing some upbeat jazz music, complete with thrilling saxophone solos and a melody that even has Kyungsoo’s foot tapping along to the beat. Taeyeon pulls herself off of Baekhyun long enough to demand, “dance with me!” and drag him out of his seat toward the little clearing designated as a dance floor. Kyungsoo takes this moment alone as an opportunity to go speak to Jongin. For no other reason besides the fact that they're the only two sober persons in the whole circus. 

 

He settles himself down in the seat that Taemin-or-Taeyong had just vacated to join the others on the dance floor. Jongin smiles sweetly at him, turning back to his glass of water to take a gulp. Kyungsoo eyes the water jealously. It's wickedly hot in here. 

 

“Hi,” is all Kyungsoo can think to say. Jongin flushes a little bit, mouth still full of water as he smiles and bows his head in greeting. Kyungsoo wants to continue the conversation, but Jongin is so reserved. It doesn't help that the way the yellow light is warming the height of Jongin’s cheekbones is leaving Kyungsoo without words. 

 

“More entertaining than the show itself, isn't it?” Jongin eventually says, gesturing at the swarm of bodies stumbling and shouting and dancing before them. 

 

Kyungsoo smiles at Jongin, dwelling in the way Jongin’s cheeks turn pink at any sort of attention from others. “Not as entertaining as you. You're a wonderful acrobat.”

 

The light shade of pink darkens into a vivid red. It suits him just as well as his natural golden shade. “Thank you.”

 

“It’s nice to find another sober brain in this cacophony.”

 

Jongin looks up at Kyungsoo, his gaze meeting Kyungsoo’s fleetingly before looking back down at the water in his hands. “Not a drinker?” 

 

“It doesn't really appeal to me. I just don't see what all the fuss is about, do you?” Kyungsoo continues to look down at Jongin, hoping the acrobat would open up enough to meet his gaze for more than a fleeting moment. 

 

Jongin glances up, briefly, turning toward the crowd of others. “That isn't so much the case for me,” he shrugs. He blinks slowly a few times, sneaking another glance at Kyungsoo. “I’m scared of what alcohol would do to me.”

 

Kyungsoo blinks, cocking his head to the side. He leans in a tad closer to Jongin’s warm body in order to hear him better. “Scared? Why is that?” 

 

Jongin’s smile is shy as he blinks at Kyungsoo a few times. His eyelashes are long and pretty, brushing against his cheeks with every flutter. Kyungsoo’s breath catches in his chest for a moment. 

 

Jongin says, “I’ve seen alcohol turn respectable men into monsters.” 

 

Kyungsoo can sense that Jongin doesn't want to dwell any further on the subject. He sees the way Jongin's shoulders tense a bit, notices the way Jongin is looking sadly down at his water before taking a prolonged sip. Kyungsoo desperately wants to make Jongin feel better. 

 

“Well, that's certainly happened to Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo jokes. Both he and Jongin look up to where Chanyeol is, stumbling through, spilling his drink everywhere, knocking everything over in his wake. “The fella is more destructive than the Great War.”

 

Jongin’s giggle is the prettiest noise Kyungsoo’s ever heard. It reminds him of the flutter of fairy wings, or the feeling of butterflies in your stomach, or the trickle of water down a shallow, rocky stream. Kyungsoo is hypnotized. Kyungsoo is determined to hear that laugh as much as possible. 

 

“How’s your friend?” Kyungsoo inquires. 

 

Jongin turns to face him, this time without immediately shying away. “Grumpy. He loves drinking himself senseless. He’s annoyed that he has to stay in bed.”

 

Kyungsoo feigns a scowl, leaning back in his seat. “Would serve him good. I think everyone around here could use a bit of detox.”

 

Jongin’s little pixie laugh returns. “I’m convinced their hearts pump cheap scotch instead of blood.” 

 

“That explains so much about you carnie folk,” Kyungsoo smiles. Jongin studies Kyungsoo’s face a moment before turning to watch everyone else. 

 

Baekhyun is sitting down, once again, eyes closed, mouth wide open, clearly plummeting into a drunken slumber. Kyungsoo sighs out, turning to Jongin one last time. 

 

“I should probably get my roommate to bed.” 

 

“I should probably go check on mine. Good luck.” Jongin is pushing out of his seat, then, walking away carefully. His long and lithe body moves elegantly through the mess and Kyungsoo is thoroughly convinced that Jongin is not a real person. He’s far too graceful, made of ribbons and sunlight. 

 

Kyungsoo weaves his way through the crowd to where Baekhyun is starting to drool. It would be totally amusing if he weren't so much heavier than he looks. Or Kyungsoo is weaker than he thought. He grumbles to himself as he tries to drag Baekhyun to his feet, to no avail. 

 

“Here,” Yixing emerges from the crowd, reaching out to take Baekhyun from Kyungsoo’s grip. “I got him.”

 

“Thank you,” Kyungsoo says quietly as Yixing effortlessly throws Baekhyun over his shoulder. They begin walking through the carts together, toward the one he shares with Baekhyun. “You seem to handle your alcohol fairly well.”

 

Yixing chuckles warmly. “I try not to get too drunk at these types of things. I have a whole circus that I need to keep in tip top shape.”

 

“Well, they're certainly lucky to have you as a leader,” Kyungsoo says once they've finally arrived in their carriage. Without the noise of the crowd and the music, Kyungsoo can hear the train rumbling below them as it speeds along the tracks. Yixing plops Baekhyun down in his bed. 

 

“You're too kind,” he says, working at Baekhyun’s shoes. “It’s a lot of work, especially making sure this brat doesn't get himself killed by accident.” 

 

“You two seem very close,” Kyungsoo comments. 

 

Yixing smiles fondly down at Baekhyun, who’s now mumbling about something Kyungsoo can't decipher. “I’m the first friend he made here.” Then a wistful sigh. “He’s a broken soul. Gotta make sure he’s always okay.” 

 

Kyungsoo furrows his brow. “Broken how?” 

 

Yixing turns his warm smile to Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo sees something behind Yixing’s kind eyes that he doesn't recognize. Then Yixing says, “That’s something he’s going to have to tell you himself. I met him at one of our shows back when my father was the ring leader, before he died. He was a seventeen-year-old without a home, manipulating one of our clowns into giving him free popcorn.” 

 

“Homeless at seventeen? How did he even manage that?” 

 

It’s almost unnerving how genuine and warm Yixing is. He’s never met someone who radiates with so much kindness and gentleness. But rather than making him appear weak, his softness makes Kyungsoo only respect his authority more. 

 

“Like I said,” Yixing sighs, scratching at the back of his neck. “That’s something he’ll have to share, himself. You’ll find, Kyungsoo, that just about everyone here is here because they were running from something.” 

 

“Oh,” is all Kyungsoo can say. 

 

Yixing pats lightly at Baekhyun’s head before saying, “I’m glad you're here to share a room with him. He gets awfully lonely.” 

 

Kyungsoo turns to dig into the trunk to find his pajamas. “Why didn't you room with him?” 

 

When he turns around, he catches a brief moment of Yixing gazing sadly down at Baekhyun. But his smile is back on his face, aimed toward Kyungsoo so quick, Kyungsoo questions if he’d even seen it at all. 

 

“It’s because I care about him too much,” Yixing says, turning toward the door. “Take care of him.” 

 

“Of course, sir,” Kyungsoo nods, waving Yixing good night. Once Yixing is gone, Kyungsoo quickly changes into his pajamas before turning his attention to Baekhyun. 

 

“Was that Xing?” he slurs, his droopy hound eyes fluttering open languidly. 

 

“Yes,” Kyungsoo whispers, pulling the sheets over Baekhyun’s body. “He helped carry you to bed.” 

 

“Hmmm,” Baekhyun hums delightedly. His eyes open completely then, glaring at Kyungsoo in all seriousness. “Don't tell anyone, but I like being thin because Yixing likes to pick me up.”

 

“You're silly,” Kyungsoo can't help but chuckle, finishing up tucking Baekhyun in. “And very drunk. Shut your mouth and sleep it off.” 

 

Baekhyun continues grumbling about nothing as Kyungsoo climbs up into the top bunk. Baekhyun’s grumbles soon diminish into quiet hums as he drifts to sleep. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. It's ridiculous how Baekhyun can manage to  _ always  _ make noise. Eventually his hums melt into steady breaths, and Kyungsoo is left with his sober mind, laying in the darkness. 

 

He ponders over what Yixing said about Baekhyun being broken, and that just about everyone here is. He wonders what Baekhyun’s life before the circus was like. He wonders what sunny and goofy Chanyeol was running from. He wonders how confident and effortless Amber is broken. His mind wanders toward Jongin. What broke him? What drove him to run away with the circus?

 

Jongdae had said that Jongin grew up in his neighbourhood. He had a wealthy and prominent family, then. But he had run away so young. He’d said earlier that he’s seen alcohol turn respectable men into monsters. Kyungsoo tries to immediately push the thought from his mind. This is dangerous territory. 

 

For a second night in a row, Kyungsoo falls into a fitful slumber. He hopes he gets a good night’s sleep soon. 

 

\-----

 

“No, Kyungsoo, your left arm. We’ve been over this.”

 

The train has been moving along for almost three whole days, now. Every few hours, the train takes breaks in open expanses of land, so the passengers can wander about for some time and stretch their legs, breathe fresh air. There are three meals served a day, all cooked by a kitchen staff that's lead by Yixing’s mother, Kyungsoo learns. She makes the best Sweet and Sour Chicken stir fry Kyungsoo has ever tasted. He spends his days with Chanyeol and Amber, practicing for the show. He regularly checks up on Sehun, basking in those few moments he has near the ever warm and welcoming presence of Jongin. Baekhyun flutters about, always to be found either near Taeyeon or Yixing. Kyungsoo has realized that if he's found near Taeyeon, it's because she searched him out; if he's to be found near Yixing, that's his own doing. 

 

Kyungsoo has become rather practiced at his new job as Chanyeol’s dazzling assistant. He recognizes that he could never be as stunning as Yura, or even Amber before him, but it's worth the shot. Amber seems ecstatic to get this burden off her shoulders and Kyungsoo doesn't want to burst her bubble. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he groans, stumbling over to a seat that's been calling to him for nearly half an hour, now. “We’ve done so much today, my brain seems to be working backwards right now.” 

 

Chanyeol sighs, beginning to pack up the few small props they could retrieve for practising. Kyungsoo watches with wide eyes, Amber looking immeasurably bored, spread out on the floor of the room Chanyeol shares with a few members of the quintet. “You're right,” Chanyeol says. “You’re pretty much ready, anyway. We’ll take a break for the evening and go over this last trick tomorrow while we’re setting up.” 

 

Kyungsoo nods solemnly, his eyes beginning to water from how he’s staring into oblivion. He shakes himself out of it, pushing himself out of the chair and succumbing to the grumbling in his belly. Time to go get dinner. 

 

He barely enters the dining cart, Chanyeol and Amber close on his heels, when Jongin approaches him. “Eat with me,” he says quietly, close enough to Kyungsoo to allow him to assume that this invitation is not addressed to anyone else. He just nods, dumbly, his eyes wide as he observes Jongin, wondering if he’s somehow out of his mind. 

 

Jongin has proven to be nothing but shy, in the few interactions the two of them have had. Kyungsoo was starting to feel as though Jongin was afraid of him. 

 

They stand in line for their plates of food. Jongin stands notably close to Kyungsoo’s side. Kyungsoo watches the way Jongin curls away from other bodies as they shuffle by, the way he avoids eye contact with anyone near. It's so endearing it almost feels like an inconvenience. 

 

“Sehun is still laid up, trying to rest it enough that he can perform on Saturday. I needed someone to eat with,” Jongin says, as if he owes Kyungsoo an explanation. 

 

Kyungsoo nods, a small smile on his lips as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “Of course. I wouldn't mind your company, anyway.” 

 

They're almost at the front of the line, now. Jongin flushes, smiling down at his feet. “I just don't do well in groups. I’d rather spend time with people individually.” 

 

“An understandable preference,” Kyungsoo says politely. “I’m honoured you chose me, out of everyone.” 

 

At this point they have their plates of food - meat loaf and wax beans - and are weaving their way toward a table in a quiet corner. Jongin smiles timidly as he gently seats himself across from Kyungsoo. “I like you, Kyungsoo. Everyone here likes to make a lot of noise but you're relatively quiet.” 

 

“I didn't think it was possible for some people to speak as much as Chanyeol and Baekhyun do,” Kyungsoo scoffs jokingly. The first bite of his meal is delicious. He’s pretty sure he skipped lunch because he was too busy practising. 

 

“It exhausts me,” Jongin says. “It's nice to have someone I can just sit with.”

 

Kyungsoo nods in understanding. “Peace and quiet is valuable. I’m beginning to notice how rare it is around here.” 

 

Jongin’s smile is wide and welcoming. Kyungsoo has never seen anything more beautiful. “Precisely. Only Sehun seems to understand how much I need the quiet.”

 

“Glad I could help.” 

 

And they don't say anything else. It’s wonderful, actually. Although the rest of the carriage around them is in disarray, an assortment of noises and voices, the two of them sit in tranquility. It’s almost as if there’s a bubble of peace around them. It’s the most comfortable Kyungsoo has felt since he hid himself under Baekhyun’s bed. 

 

It’s cut short when Krystal - or Soojung, really - slides herself in next to Jongin, already finished her meal. She’s not exactly an unwelcome presence, but Kyungsoo grieves the loss of he and Jongin’s restful atmosphere. She smiles softly at Jongin, then brightly at Kyungsoo. He nods in greeting, his mouth full. 

 

“Hello, doctor,” she chimes. A pretty thing, she is. She has a habit of borrowing some of the men’s shirts and fashioning them into a stylish blouse. Today she’s wearing a baby blue number that Kyungsoo recognizes as Minho the cellist’s. 

 

“Soojung,” Kyungsoo says with a smile, wiping the corners of his mouth with his napkin as he finishes up. “How are you today?” 

 

“Fantastic, thank you,” she replies, eyes shimmering in the dim yellow light. She lifts a hand to rest it on a silent Jongin’s shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “Just thought I’d come over and say hello.” 

 

“Well, hello,” Kyungsoo says. He hopes it doesn't sound too sour, but judging by the amused smirk that twitches the corners of Jongin’s lips, he thinks it just might. 

 

Soojung pays it no mind. “I’ve seen you around and I keep hearing about you, but I’ve hardly had the chance to speak to you. I’d love to get to know you, doctor.” 

 

Does Kyungsoo sense something flirty in the lilt of her voice? He eyes the way her hand strokes gently into Jongin’s shoulder. Or is it territorial? 

 

“There’s never been someone so educated and mysterious on our train before.”

 

Definitely flirting. 

 

Kyungsoo sees no harm in bouncing right back, playing this little game of smiles and inflections and hints. He’s no stranger to it. As a relatively handsome young man with a rich family and a promising future, he’s had his fair share of women expressing their interest. Kyungsoo never turns down the opportunity to flirt back, even if it is just to fuel his ego. 

 

“Well, I’ve certainly never met a woman who makes men’s clothes look so beautiful, before,” he responds, propping his elbows on the table and leaning the slightest bit forward. 

 

She grins and flushes before replying with something witty and charming. Their banter continues on for a little while, bouncing back and forth with compliments hidden in self-praise. Though Kyungsoo is talking to Soojung, he’s all too aware of the way Jongin is reacting to everything happening around him. He watches them talk back and forth, his mouth upturned in amusement and his eyes shimmering in curiosity. Kyungsoo distantly wonders what he's so darn curious about. 

 

Sunyoung interrupts them after a few minutes, dragging Soojung away because she’s needed elsewhere. Something about costumes. She leaves, reluctantly, giving Kyungsoo a parting nod and Jongin’s shoulder a squeeze. 

 

“You’re good at that,” Jongin says, voice a tad wistful. 

 

“At what?” Kyungsoo plays coy. 

 

“Don't act like you don't know what you were doing,” Jongin scolds, although his voice is small. Has the boy ever been mean in his life?

 

Kyungsoo shrugs. “Where’s the harm in it?”

 

“I never said there was,” Jongin has his cheek resting in his hand, eyes swimming in sweetness and lips pulled taut with a gentle smile. “I just find it surprising. You’re so reserved. I didn't think it was possible for you to be charming.” 

 

Kyungsoo mocks offence, swatting playfully at Jongin. Jongin giggles, a sound Kyungsoo loves all too much. “What, like you've never aimlessly flirted in your life?” 

 

Jongin shrugs, hums in thought. “I don't know how to flirt.” 

 

“With a face like yours, you don't have to,” Kyungsoo is saying before he realizes it. Jongin’s eyebrows quirk up, his cheeks tinting pink, eyes sickly sweet like syrup. Kyungsoo feels as though his throat is closing in. 

 

“Wow, you're almost better than Baekhyun,” Jongin teases. It makes Kyungsoo’s chest feel a lot lighter, knowing that Jongin is taking this in stride. “And he’s a chronic flirt.” 

 

“You know, I don't think he realizes it,” Kyungsoo says with wide eyes, as if it’s properly concerning. Jongin laughs again, sitting up straight and reaching across the table to collect Kyungsoo’s empty plate. “He flirts totally inclusively, even if it's a man. I think it's just the way he talks.” 

 

Jongin hums again, contemplatively. “Right, what man in his right mind would purposely flirt with another man?” 

 

There’s something about those words that leave a bitter taste on Kyungsoo’s tongue. He feels oddly as though he offended Jongin, though Jongin isn't really supplying him with any sign of being offended. He smiles at Kyungsoo, telling him he’ll return before pushing out of his seat to bring their dishes to the kitchen to be washed. 

 

But speak of the devil and he shall appear. Baekhyun is situating himself in the seat across from Kyungsoo with that wicked grin on his lips. Kyungsoo sighs. 

 

“Little one, I’ve hardly seen you all day,” he quips, eyes sparkling with every bit of mischief he always seems to be carrying with him. “I've missed you greatly.”

 

Jongin returns, then, sitting down quietly and avoiding eye contact with Baekhyun, even as Baekhyun flashes a greeting smile at him. Baekhyun doesn't seem to notice Jongin’s reluctance, continuing to plunder on about his day. He talks seamlessly and endlessly, like always. Kyungsoo pays no attention. He’s watching the way Jongin curls in on himself in the presence of so much noise. 

 

“Nini,” Baekhyun says to Jongin. Kyungsoo’s eyebrows shoot up at the sound of the nickname, and the way Jongin reacted to it immediately only signifies that it’s commonly used. Kyungsoo smiles. It suits him just right.

 

“Yes, Baekhyunnie?” His response is halfway to a sigh. Kyungsoo relates. 

 

“How’s Sehunnie doing? It’s weird seeing you wandering about without him.”

 

“Oh,” Jongin relaxes a little bit. Kyungsoo ponders whether it’s because he doesn’t have to talk about himself. “Sehun is doing okay, he can walk on it pretty good, now. Just wants to take it extra easy between now and the show.”

 

“Glad to hear it,” Baekhyun’s smile is blinding. He’s just so much person packed into a little body. Kyungsoo only  _ really  _ notices it after being around the gentle presence of Jongin. “It’s nice to see you making friends, anyway. You and little one are going to get along just fine, I can tell.”

 

“You speak as if you know me,” Kyungsoo chides, deliberately rolling his eyes for effect.

 

“Little one, don’t you remember?” Baekhyun purrs, eyebrow cocked and half his lips pulled up into a smirk. “I know everything.”

 

Jongin snorts out a laugh and it catches Kyungsoo’s attention. They make eye contact, relaying a message just through their expressions. Jongin is thinking the same thing Kyungsoo is. Baekhyun is so full of it.

 

\-----

 

The process of setting up is remarkable. It’s absolute magic, watching the way the labourers work together to build everything from the ground up. It’s like watching an evolution right before him. Something meek and insignificant growing into something grand and exceptional.

 

It’s a rainy spring day. Kyungsoo and Chanyeol have been reviewing the tricks for almost three hours, now. Kyungsoo feels like he can do it all backwards, with his eyes closed, on one foot, by now. Chanyeol is thorough, if nothing. With a final pat on the back and a dazzling grin, Kyungsoo is sent off to do as he pleases. 

 

The rain isn't unbearable, it's calmed into a gentle sprinkle. Kyungsoo decides he’ll survive a walk outside. It turns out to be quite relaxing, the light mist; it's refreshing after days of suffocating on overused air, crammed between two bodies at all times. 

 

He finds Amber at the far end of the train, just outside Jamba’s cart. She goes to visit him every day, but Kyungsoo has yet to go with her. Today, she has Jamba outside, and he's practically leaping in the rain. 

 

She smiles at Kyungsoo when she sees him approaching, and he's already smiling when he turns his gaze from Jamba to her. “He loves the rain,” Amber says. 

 

“I can tell,” Kyungsoo nods, slowing to a halt now that he's standing next to Amber. Jamba is impeccably adorable, his ears flapping as he stops his skipping to look at Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo turns to Amber. “May I?”

 

“Of course,” Amber says, before telling Jamba something in Chinese. “I just told him that you are a friend.” 

 

“Your elephant speaks Chinese,” Kyungsoo muses, a curious grin on his lips. He reaches a hand forward tentatively, attempting not to move too fast to scare the young elephant. Jamba reaches out his trunk to meet Kyungsoo halfway, tugging him in so Kyungsoo can properly stroke his trunk, scratch behind his giant ear. Kyungsoo giggles, petting the magnificent creature with enthusiasm as Jamba studies his face. Kyungsoo distantly remembers that elephants remember everything, and distantly concludes that Jamba is putting Kyungsoo’s face to memory. This might just be the most important first impression he’s ever had to make.

 

“He likes you,” Amber smiles, stepping forward to join Kyungsoo in caressing between Jamba’s eyes. “He’s usually pretty shy.”

 

“He could probably tell how excited I was to meet him,” 

 

She nods at Kyungsoo before commanding something in Chinese. Jamba leans down on his front legs, seemingly bowing to Kyungsoo before turning around and climbing back into his cart. Kyungsoo watches the whole ordeal with an amused beam, chest feeling fluttery at just how darn cute the elephant is. Kyungsoo makes a mental note to join Amber on her visits to Jamba more often.

 

He wanders away to find Baekhyun, who’s standing a few steps away from where Yixing and Song Qian are talking in a low, rushed murmur. By the looks of it, Song Qian had once again interrupted Baekhyun amidst his conversation with Yixing. She tends to do that often, Kyungsoo has noticed.

 

Kyungsoo settles himself in place next to Baekhyun, hands in his pockets. The rain has mostly let up now, the only moisture left has settled onto the grass around them, turning everything to its most vivid, saturated version of itself. Baekhyun is listening on the conversation in front of him attentively, his brows furrowed in concentration. Kyungsoo watches him curiously.

 

“I can understand a little bit of Chinese,” Baekhyun explains, still not looking away from the pair in front of them. “I had Yixing teach me a little bit so I can understand him sometimes when he can’t think of the right word in Korean.”

 

“That’s actually quite nice,” Kyungsoo says.

 

“He’s a good friend. So am I,” Baekhyun says distractedly. “They’re bickering over the health of one of her horses. Apparently one isn’t feeling too good.”

 

“Shame,” Kyungsoo sighs. Baekhyun merely nods.

 

Then, Song Qian is turning away and Baekhyun’s eyes brighten a tiny bit. But Yixing turns to Baekhyun, apologizing that he must go help her, and Kyungsoo can see the fight in Baekhyun drain. That is one thing Kyungsoo has never seen Baekhyun do. He’s never seen that fire that seems to fuel him be extinguished. 

 

With a sigh, they both head back to the train, walking slowly along the dew-soaked grass. Baekhyun is quiet. Kyungsoo feels the tug of worry in his gut. Baekhyun is never quiet.

 

He cheers up once the two of them are back in the cart and Baekhyun can once again be the centre of attention. He babbles on endlessly whilst everyone sitting with them at the table pays great attention. They all laugh along to his silly little jokes, nod in understanding when his story telling gets intense. Kyungsoo has really never seen anything like it. The boy can just enrapture anyone and anything. He wonders if Jamba likes him.

 

“Are you ready for the show tonight?” Chanyeol asks, once Kyungsoo has maneuvered his way to the far end of the table where it’s much quieter. Jongin makes his way over to sit next to him, clearly also craving a moment of peace.

 

“Actually?” Kyungsoo says, tapping his chin. “I’m so nervous. Now that you mention it.”

 

“You’ll do fine, you know all the tricks like the back of your hand,” Chanyeol attempts to comfort.

 

Kyungsoo shakes his head, “It’s not a fear of getting it wrong! I’m just…” He trails off, glancing over at where Baekhyun is seated, chattering on as if the adoring gazes of everyone around him is his source of life and energy. Jongin seems to understand, scooting in closer to speak considerably lowly.

 

“I know what you mean,” Jongin says softly. Chanyeol has to lean his elbows on the table in order to hear him, too. “I hate having so many people look at me.”

 

“Well, how on earth do you do it? You’re so shy yet you positively shine under the spotlight.”

 

Jongin blushes at the compliment. “It’s the stage name. It helps.”

 

Kyungsoo blinks. “How?”

 

“Think of it as a different persona. A whole nother person.”

 

Chanyeol nods enthusiastically, wide eyes even wider as he emphasizes the point. “It’s true! Kai is a very different person than Jongin.”

 

Kyungsoo furrows his brow, glaring between the two of them. He’s never heard anything so absurd in his life! Of course Kai is Jongin as much as Jongin is Kai. Although the Kai he’s seen wearing glitter and swinging high in the air has an entirely different effect on him than Jongin. Jongin, who is nothing but honey and cashmere, is a stark contrast to the power of Kai. He sighs.

 

“Well, alright, then,” Kyungsoo shrugs. “What will my stage name be?”

 

Jongin’s smile is so wide and pretty, his gentle eyes scrunching up, his cheekbones rising up into little peaches. Kyungsoo is distracted for a single breath before he remembers he has to be pondering options for a stage name.

 

“It can be anything you’d like,” Jongin says, voice soft and dreamy. Jongin reminds Kyungsoo of a mid-afternoon nap, sometimes. The one that’s just long enough to leave you refreshed, the one that’s just long enough that you wake up to the warm sunlight still pouring in through the window. 

 

“Hmm,” Kyungsoo rests his chin on his hands, brows furrowing as he thinks. “How about… D.O?”

 

Chanyeol blinks at him, clearly unimpressed. “That’s literally just your surname.”

 

Jongin giggles next to him as Kyungsoo scoffs. With a curl of his lip, Kyungsoo protests, “Well, why don’t you think of something better!”

 

Chanyeol sighs, shaking his head. “No, it’ll do.” Then, he’s tapping a finger on Kyungsoo’s forehead. “Although, you’re a magician’s assistant, now. We have to work on that creativity of yours.”

  
  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

This has been the most beautiful summer of weather Kyungsoo has ever experienced. It's currently in the middlemost of the season, when the days are their longest and the birds are their loudest. There’s been hardly any rain over the past month-and-a-half; just enough to quench the plants without being a nuisance. It’s perfect. 

 

Kyungsoo has spent the majority of the summer tucked into quiet corners with Jongin. When they aren't performing or working or eating with the others, their spare time is spent finding some place quiet where Kyungsoo can read and Jongin can scribble into a sketch pad. Jongin is a talented artist, Kyungsoo learns. He’s also a year younger than him, his mother had a fantastic sense of humour, he has an older sister, and a phobia of speaking in front of a crowd. He learns these throughout the small, sweet conversations they share throughout their time together. They don't speak much, neither of them being men of many words. They say all they need to say, no fluff, no rambling, no unnecessary noise. 

 

It’s comfortable. Kyungsoo left behind so much to pursue this ridiculous adventure. It’s nice to find something that somehow reminds Kyungsoo of home. 

 

He reckons it’s the same way for Jongin. He searches out Kyungsoo every morning, visibly relaxes in his presence, and shares things with him Kyungsoo knows are saved for only those he trusts most. Much to the other acrobats’ dismay. The group of them always travel in a pack, eyeing Kyungsoo possessively, clearly envious that their friend’s attention has been so quickly relocated. Kyungsoo will not so easily give in. He’s come to like Jongin far too much to give him back without a fight. 

 

Today, they're barely a mile into the forest surrounding the field where the labourers are tearing down. Kyungsoo is tired, as he’d stayed up late the night before cleaning and stitching up a bite Junmyeon had acquired by accidentally surprising his lion, Rinah, who looked adorably guilty the moment she realized who she nipped at. They're sitting beneath a sturdy, beautiful oak tree, Kyungsoo’s back against the trunk and Jongin’s head in his lap as he tries to sketch the leaves above him. Kyungsoo was reading a book, but had long abandoned it to watch the way Jongin’s pencil glides across the page, leaving a masterpiece in its path. 

 

Jongin’s breath leaves him slowly and loudly. Kyungsoo pats his hair in a silent question. Jongin sits up, the heat in Kyungsoo’s lap departing with him. He sits cross-legged in front of the smaller boy, watching him intently. 

 

“I’m bored of drawing leaves,” he says simply. Then his brow furrows in that way that reminds Kyungsoo of his childhood dog. “Can I draw you?”

 

Kyungsoo can tell his face flushes briefly. He smiles. “Of course.”

 

Jongin’s smile is beautiful. Breathtaking, even. Kyungsoo loves saying and doing things that earns that smile in response. “Okay, you don't have to sit perfectly still but… try not to move too much.”

 

Kyungsoo nods. He takes this as an opportunity to observe the greenery around him. He watches a butterfly resting on the trunk of a nearby tree, wings fluttering languidly. It almost reminds Kyungsoo of the rise and fall of breath. He’s not sure how much time passes, feeling inexplicably relaxed sitting in the peaceful woods, Jongin’s attentive stare warming his skin. All he knows is it feels vaguely like a dream, though he distinctly remembers waking up this morning. 

 

Jongin sighs out, sounding somewhat frustrated. Kyungsoo turns to him, blinking with curious eyes. Jongin smiles softly, the timid and shy smile Kyungsoo recognizes as the smile Jongin gives before sharing something he fears could disappoint the listener. Kyungsoo has yet to be disappointed in Jongin, though. 

 

“It’s your eyes,” Jongin says. “I keep drawing them too big for your face, but I still feel like they aren't big enough.” 

 

Kyungsoo chuckles quietly, fondness spreading in his chest like a warmth. He reaches out for the sketch pad, and Jongin complies, gingerly placing it in Kyungsoo’s open palms. 

 

Kyungsoo smiles wide, cheeks going pink before he says, “It’s perfect, just like this.”

 

Jongin smiles, averting his eyes from Kyungsoo to watch where his fingers tug the grass out of the ground. “It’s difficult to draw a bad picture of you. You have such a nice face.” 

 

Kyungsoo kicks at Jongin’s knee, playfully. “You said you don't know how to flirt.” 

 

Jongin blinks up at him, eyes going wide. “Was that flirting? I was only trying to be nice.” 

 

“You're too cute for your own good.” Kyungsoo shakes his head, handing the book back to Jongin. 

 

“That was flirting,” Jongin notes aloud. 

 

Kyungsoo grins. “That was flirting.”

 

They're interrupted by heavy footsteps beating their way through the forest towards the two of them. Kyungsoo audibly groans. There’s only one person who could make so much noise without even speaking. 

 

It’s no surprise when Baekhyun emerges from behind a few low trees. He beams that bone-chilling beam, eyeing the two of them with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. They both blink back at him. 

 

“Come,” Baekhyun says, nodding his head in gesture toward the train. “A few of us are going out tonight instead of drinking.” 

 

Kyungsoo clambers up from his seat on the ground, joints groaning. Jongin seems hesitant, but follows Kyungsoo, anyway. The acrobat raises his arms to stretch once he's on his feet. The buttons of his shirt strain across his chest. Kyungsoo absently pokes at one of them in amusement, smiling at the way Jongin swats weakly at him. 

 

He turns back to Baekhyun, who looks vastly entertained by watching the two of them interact. “Where are we going?”

 

Baekhyun clicks his tongue, turning around and expecting the two of them to follow him. They do, of course. Baekhyun and his seemingly psychic ability to make anyone do as he wishes. “I’ll tell you on the way there, little one. Don't worry, I’d never take you anywhere you'd get hurt.”

 

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, glancing over his shoulder to share a glare with Jongin. Jongin snickers, knowing exactly what Kyungsoo means. 

 

\-----

 

“I've been hearing about it all week,” Baekhyun explains as they walk through the streets of the city they’ve spent the past five days entertaining. It's evening, at this point, the sky beginning to turn grey. “I’ve been overhearing people talking as they walk by my tent. Apparently this film is terrifying.”

 

Kyungsoo sighs. “And you thought it would be a good idea to watch it because…?”

 

Baekhyun grins, wrapping an arm around Kyungsoo’s shoulders to tug him in close. “Because, little one, we happen to permanently reside in the vicinity of actual  _ clowns _ . Nothing can scare us.”

 

“You speak as though we’re invincible.”

 

“I don't know about you,” Baekhyun sighs. “But I am.”

 

Jongin, on Kyungsoo’s other side, slides his hand into the crook of Kyungsoo’s elbow. Jongin is affectionate, Kyungsoo has discovered. He likes to hold on to Kyungsoo, especially when they're walking, to ensure he doesn't wander too far away. Chanyeol, Amber, and Taeyeon walk ahead of them, chatting about something or other. 

 

“No Yixing tonight?” Kyungsoo turns to Baekhyun, who is still engulfed in Kyungsoo’s personal space. 

 

Baekhyun smiles fondly at the ground beneath their feet. “Yixing doesn't do horror very well. He couldn't finish reading Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, I had to fill him in on how it ended.” 

 

Kyungsoo thinks about how much of a pillar of strength Yixing is, yet how he’s simultaneously remarkably soft. It makes Kyungsoo smile. 

 

He’s glad Yixing didn't come to see the film. It turns out to be terrifying, the creature - the  _ Nosferatu  _ \- so eerie and realistic. It leaves Kyungsoo dumbfounded, how cinema is able to make a man up to look so utterly terrifying. He tries to act tough, though, as Jongin spends the entire movie curled into Kyungsoo. Jongin spends the entire movie with his face buried in Kyungsoo’s shoulder, whining for him to tell him when the scary parts are over. It's ridiculous, how endearing Kyungsoo finds it. 

 

He spends the walk home in a hazy fog, despite how noisy everyone else is being, raving about how exciting and frightening and disgusting the film was. Jongin has himself tucked against Kyungsoo’s side, both hands gripped into his arm, while Kyungsoo walks with his hands in his pockets. 

 

“That wasn't so bad, was it?” Jongin says quietly. 

 

“No,” Kyungsoo smiles, lying through his teeth. It wasn't too bad for Jongin, as Jongin hadn't watched the movie. “Not bad at all.”

 

He lays in bed, that night. The dark just makes things worse. He thinks about the long and creepy fingers of the  _ Nosferatu _ , the horrible ending that ended with the death of the main female character. Every shadow, every sound as the train hurries along the tracks, sends shivers up and down Kyungsoo’s spine. 

 

He hears Baekhyun shift around in the bunk below him. Kyungsoo sighs. It’s a bit better knowing there’s someone here with him, but it isn't quite enough. He hears Baekhyun breathe unevenly and Kyungsoo takes it upon himself to do something about it. He climbs down the ladder with a groan, sliding into Baekhyun’s bed wordlessly, despite the way Baekhyun openly gawks at him. 

 

“Scared, little one?” Baekhyun teases as Kyungsoo settles himself under Baekhyun’s covers. 

 

“A tad,” he grumbles. “Don't make this weird.”

 

As if to purposely make things weird, Baekhyun shuffles in closer to Kyungsoo, laying so that their noses practically brush. Kyungsoo can’t pull away without falling off the bed. “Everything is weird, Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun says in his fortune teller voice. Kyungsoo nudges at his chest, but he doesn't move. “You're allowed to admit that the movie scared you.”

 

Kyungsoo grunts, pointedly looking at the pillow by his head instead of Baekhyun’s face. It’s a difficult task, as Baekhyun is so close.

 

“Little one, it's okay to admit that you were scared by a film that was intended to scare you,” Baekhyun sing-songs. Kyungsoo has grown used to the way Baekhyun sounds like he knows everything and is holding back from sharing it all. It doesn't faze him in the least, anymore. 

 

“I’m not that scared,” Kyungsoo lies. 

 

“Hmm. I knew it,” Baekhyun purrs. “It's been a while since you've shared a bed with someone so attractive, that's what has you so tense.”

 

Kyungsoo scoffs, rolls his eyes. “I haven't shared a bed with  _ anyone  _ since sleepovers when I was a child.” 

 

“Why, Do Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun sounds insurmountably amused. “Are you telling me you're a virgin?”

 

Kyungsoo guffaws, staring intently at Baekhyun’s face. There are enough cracks in the walls that the bunker never gets entirely dark. “Are you saying you're not?”

 

“Little one,” Baekhyun sighs. “It’s 1922, not 1822.”

 

“I think a hundred years isn't exactly a fair comparison.” 

 

Baekhyun just hums in response, bringing a hand up to fiddle with the neckline of Kyungsoo’s undershirt. Kyungsoo doesn't bother fighting him off. In fact, he kind of likes the tiny act of affection. Baekhyun’s hands are warm. 

 

“Who?” Kyungsoo asks.

 

Baekhyun hesitates. He doesn't look up from where his fingers are twisting into the fabric. “I think you know.”

 

Kyungsoo ponders it a moment. It hits him. “Taeyeon. That explains why she’s so obsessed with you.”

 

Baekhyun chuckles. It's a hollow sound, though. Kyungsoo prefers his usual laugh, the one that sounds like he's up to no good. “I have no idea how to tell her I’m not interested in dating her.”

 

“You slept with her, Baekhyun. You should have thought of that earlier.” 

 

Baekhyun sighs out an, “I know.” They lay there a moment longer. Baekhyun’s hands rest flat against Kyungsoo’s chest, now. Kyungsoo just observes Baekhyun’s face for a bit, studying the furrow of his brow as his eyes slowly begin to shut. 

 

“Baek?”

 

Baekhyun smiles, looking up at Kyungsoo. “You know, little one, that's the first time you've called to me by a nickname?”

 

Kyungsoo doesn't respond. He hadn't realized it, but over the past couple of months he’s begun to consider Baekhyun a friend. Albeit, reluctantly. Baekhyun still gets under his skin and makes far too much noise and always makes Kyungsoo feel somehow inferior. But Baekhyun is also exciting and persistent and considerably funny. Kyungsoo does like him, much to his dismay. 

 

“I guess so,” Kyungsoo finally says. 

 

“What is it, Soo?” 

 

“I was just wondering,” Kyungsoo says quietly. He’s a bit nervous and he isn't sure why. “Why did you run?”

 

Baekhyun tenses up. Kyungsoo sighs, bringing a hand up to rest on Baekhyun’s shoulder in both a silent apology and a reminder that he’s there. Baek looks distant, despite his close proximity, and Kyungsoo has never seen the older boy think so hard. 

 

“My dad,” Baekhyun says quietly, “is a lot like me. He can get away with anything he wants.” 

 

His voice sounds weak, like the words taste bitter, or hurt on the trip up his throat. Kyungsoo squeezes Baek’s shoulder, assuring him that it’s okay, that even if he doesn't want to share, Kyungsoo won’t mind. 

 

“I watched him murder my mother,” Baekhyun says. Kyungsoo feels the air in his lungs diminish into nothing. “He was a total drunk, you know. I was the one that turned him into the police. I hated him. And I hated looking in the mirror and seeing how much I inherited from him.”

 

“Baek, you don't have to-”

 

“I could just picture him,” Baekhyun seethes, tears threatening to spill at the corners of his eyes. His fists tighten, squeezing the fabric of Kyungsoo’s shirt like a vice. “I could picture him charming the investigators, convincing them it was an accident caused by too much booze, laughing with them about how my mother should have stopped running her mouth, anyway.”

 

“Baek,” Kyungsoo whispers. “If it’s any consolation, you're nothing like your father.” 

 

Baekhyun’s gaze shoots up to Kyungsoo’s, his eyes fierce and watering. “Aren't I, though? He manipulated his way into only a one-year sentence! He talked his way out of his consequences! Does that not sound like me?”

 

“You're not violent.” 

 

“Perhaps not,” Baekhyun growls, his voice bitter and vile. “But I am a conman and a liar.” A deep breath. Kyungsoo is out of things to say. “I had to run before he could find me. I’m the one who tried to get him locked away. He was going to kill me, next.”

 

“Yixing said you were homeless.” 

 

Baekhyun blinks, the tears finally dripping down his cheeks, across the bridge of his nose, pooling on the pillow beneath his head. “I had barely been without a home for a couple months when he found me,” Baekhyun’s voice shatters, along with Kyungsoo's heart. “I owe him my life.”

 

He breaks down, completely, then. His chest rattles with sobs and Kyungsoo wraps his arms tightly around him. Kyungsoo isn't sure if the embrace is as a thank you for sharing something so monumental, or to protect him from everything the world has done to harm him. He settles for both. 

 

Kyungsoo holds Baekhyun tightly, warmly, securely until Baekhyun's sobs wither into sniffles. Kyungsoo holds Baekhyun until they both fall asleep. 

 

\-----

 

Every morning involves either Jongin seeking out Kyungsoo or Kyungsoo searching for Jongin. It always depends on who wakes up before the other. 

 

This morning, Jongin is awake first. He barges right into the carriage Kyungsoo shares with Baekhyun, as that's become something almost expected. What isn't expected, though, is that Jongin would find Kyungsoo and Baekhyun in the same bed, wrapped up in each other. Kyungsoo’s grip around the fortune teller had loosened overnight, but Baekhyun still remained encased in Kyungsoo’s arms, agape mouth pressed lightly into Kyungsoo’s throat in a laughably unattractive manner. 

 

Kyungsoo’s eyes flutter open at the sound of Jongin calling out for him as the door bangs open. He glances up, groggily, puffy eyes meeting Jongin’s wide eyes. 

 

Jongin flushes a deep red. “I...I’m sorry, I… I didn't mean to intrude, I…”

 

Kyungsoo means to say something, but he's so tired from such a shallow and worrisome sleep, his mouth seems incapable of opening. 

 

“I’ll just go,” Jongin finally says, spinning on his heels and shutting the door behind him. Kyungsoo blinks blearily, realizing that the arm beneath Baekhyun has long fallen asleep. He attempts to retrieve it from beneath the young man but it merely results in Baekhyun maneuvering closer to Kyungsoo. 

 

“No,” he mumbles sleepily against Kyungsoo's neck. It tickles and Kyungsoo cringes. “Too comfy.”

 

“Baek, we’ll miss breakfast.”

 

Baekhyun sighs, retracting himself from Kyungsoo’s embrace reluctantly. His eyes are puffy from sleep, but it could also be the remnants of his crying the night before. They both sit up, stretching out their limbs and groaning their good mornings.

 

Baek turns to face Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo looks back at him. “Thank you.” Baekhyun’s voice is small. 

 

“No,” Kyungsoo shakes his head, reaching up to smooth out Baekhyun’s mess of bed hair. Baekhyun absently leans into the touch. Baekhyun loves being touched, Kyungsoo has noticed. “Thank  _ you.  _ For trusting me enough to share that.”

 

Baekhyun has a cute smile, when it isn't laced with the hint of power and knowledge. “Thank you for letting me cry like a newborn without poking fun at me. You're one hell of a friend, Kyungsoo.” 

 

Kyungsoo shrugs it off before they're both unfolding themselves from the sheets and putting their feet on the cold floor. It’s a languid and silent process, the two of them getting dressed and ready for the day, until they're both heading toward the dining cart, together. Baekhyun is uncharacteristically silent. Kyungsoo never imagined he would ever grieve his noise. 

 

Kyungsoo immediately finds Jongin, already sitting at a table that’s been unofficially claimed by the acrobats. Kyungsoo approaches him where he's seated with his back facing Kyungsoo, talking with Sehun and Soojung over a plate of eggs. When Kyungsoo gently places a hand on his shoulder, Jongin startles, blinking up at Kyungsoo with panic flooded eyes. 

 

“Oh,” he says. “I thought I might eat with them this morning. I always eat with you.”

 

Kyungsoo nods, despite the way his jaw noticeably tightens. He pretends he doesn't notice the victorious glare Sehun has fixed on him as he gives Jongin a parting pat and walks across the cart to where Baekhyun is. 

 

As always, he's seated with Chanyeol and Amber, and this time with Yixing beside him. Kyungsoo is glad. He knows Yixing and Baekhyun have an inexplicable bond, something like a warm blanket wrapped around the two of them, ensuring that they're their safest and warmest when with each other. Baekhyun needs that, after last night, and it's apparent Yixing can tell. He has his hand on the small of Baekhyun’s back, watching Baekhyun speak with a concerned furrow of his brow, even though Baek is saying something hilarious, as the rest of the table explodes into a fit of laughter. 

 

Kyungsoo sits down on Yixing’s other side. Amber pushes an extra plate across the table, as if she’d known Kyungsoo was going to be sitting here, today. He really underestimates the circus folk sometimes, although he is one of them, by now. They're terribly perceptive. 

 

“Kyungsoo,” Yixing’s voice is gentle and oh so quiet as he leans in toward him. His hand remains on Baekhyun, though, as the other three talk excitedly about the film. “What happened?” 

 

Kyungsoo is dumbfounded that Yixing can sense something is off, as Baekhyun has done a miraculous job of acting as shameless and silly as usual. Kyungsoo hopes to someday know someone that well. 

 

“He told me,” Kyungsoo says. Yixing’s expression plummets. “He told me everything that happened. It was a long night but he’ll be okay.”

 

“He’ll always be okay,” Yixing says. “He’s consistent in that way.”

 

Kyungsoo nods, silently, turning to his breakfast. He eats wordlessly for a moment, still feeling as though he’s expecting Yixing to say more. A few minutes pass before he does. 

 

“Now you know why I said he’s a broken soul,” Yixing practically whispers. His pronunciation isn't perfect and Kyungsoo finds it remarkably delightful. “Most people here are. But, Baek…” 

 

Kyungsoo’s eggs are rubbery and tasteless. He doesn't like thinking about the way Baekhyun physically crumbled in his grip, last night. The way only voicing his nightmares made his body implode, pour out all the pain using words and tears and shaky breaths. 

 

“Baek is special,” Yixing eventually says after some thought. “Though I’m not sure if he needs me as much as I need him.”

 

“He needs you,” Kyungsoo whispers. It’s so low, it's almost as if he said it to himself rather than Yixing; a mere verbal note of the way Baekhyun burns that much brighter in the proximity of the kind and gentle ring leader. It’s a friendship, a partnership, that deserves the envy of every pair of friends on earth. 

 

Yixing’s smile is profoundly tender, as the young man always is. His lips curl up into a look of contentment, his eyes positively sparkling, as he considers what Kyungsoo said. It’s as if Kyungsoo has announced to Yixing the greatest news of his life. Kyungsoo knows better; Yixing is just that genuine and affable. 

 

Breakfast doesn’t last much longer than that, and shortly, Kyungsoo is collecting everyone’s plates to drop them off at the washing station in the kitchen. He’s chuckling at something Chanyeol says about his mess before glancing up at Jongin, hoping to catch his attention and wordlessly invite him to find him later. He nearly drops the plates in his grip to see the acrobats’ table has been deserted. It’s peculiar of Jongin to leave without first approaching Kyungsoo. He shakes his head, willing the negativity out of his mind, before turning toward the kitchen to drop off the dishes before he inevitably makes a complete mess. 

 

The trip between the previous city and the proceeding only takes a day, this time. He hardly sees any of Jongin throughout it. Jongin remains among the other acrobats, the lot of them and their lithe bodies wandering about the train, then the location, in numbers. Every time Kyungsoo approaches Jongin, Jongin flushes and stutters out some incomplete excuse to keep him from wandering off with Kyungsoo for the day. It puzzles and confuses him. Kyungsoo has no idea what he did to offend him.

 

He wastes his time with his other friends. He visits Jamba, too, who clearly remembers him and actually plays with him, with a colourful ball Amber presented. He spends time with Junmyeon, who is immeasurably sweet, his humour a silly and respectable attempt; Kyungsoo finds himself laughing more at how terrible his jokes are than the actual jokes themselves. He, of course, spends time with Baekhyun and, in turn, Yixing who’s hardly been able to leave Baekhyun’s side since Kyungsoo shared his concern with him. It’s laughable, how delighted Baek is to have the ring leader’s undivided attention. Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, those two are.

 

The pre-show chaos is something Kyungsoo has grown to love. He loves wandering about backstage in the afternoon, before the gates open, amongst the hectic traffic of the performers and labourers alike. It’s enough to distract him from the demanding weight of curious guilt hanging from his shoulders. It’s easy to get caught up in the yellow lights of the vanity mirrors, the hustle of wardrobe changes, and the smell of hairspray.

 

Kyungsoo is accustomed to a very prim and proper society. He’s used to women showing not much more than their knees and elbows, wearing shy smiles and speaking softly and only when prompted. He finds it pleasing, how outspoken and shameless the women - rather, everyone - involved in this circus is. There’s no such thing as privacy when the entire cast shares one backstage tent. Kyungsoo is always impossibly amused at how the ladies shout over one another, tossing tutus and glitter over people’s heads, unabashedly dropping their skirts to change from their everyday-wear to their costumes. Humans are a bizarre creation. And there is never a dull moment when you travel with the circus.

 

He’s chatting with Taeyeon about her violin lessons as a child when he feels a demanding grip on his upper arm. Without warning, he’s being tugged away from the violinist and through the swarm of bodies. Kyungsoo glances up from the fist squeezing his bicep to see that it belongs to none other than Sehun. It only puzzles him, more.

 

“What did you do to Jongin?” Sehun spins on his heel to face him, once they’re in a relatively private corner of the tent.

 

Kyungsoo blinks. “I’ve been asking myself the same thing.”

 

Sehun sighs, visibly surrendering any hostility he’d intended on showing. He drops his grip from Kyungsoo’s arm, shaking his head in concern. “He keeps looking over at you with this sad look on his face. Jongin seems terribly distressed and when I try to ask him about it he shoos me away and tells me not to worry about him.”

 

Kyungsoo lifts his arms in an act of defeat, sighing out before saying, “Well, I haven’t a clue. He just walked in while I was in Baekhyun’s bed, got all flustered, and hasn’t spoken to me, since.”

 

Sehun cocks an eyebrow just briefly. It’s fleeting, but the crack in his perpetually indifferent expression isn’t lost on Kyungsoo. “You were in Baek’s bed?”

 

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. “Yes. Is it possible for two men to share a bed without it becoming a scandal? We only slept, Sehun. Obviously.”

 

Sehun shrugs, an amused smirk teasing at the corners of his lips. “That actually explains it, I think.”

 

Kyungsoo stares back at Sehun, this time he’s the one sporting the unamused expression. Being friends for years with men the likes of Kim Jongdae has made him considerably practiced at looking unimpressed. “And how so?”

 

“Jongin is… different,” Sehun says carefully, as though he’s making an effort not to say too much. “He isn’t just a regular friend. He can never be just a regular friend. Just… just talk to him.”

 

And with that, Sehun is gone. As quickly as Kyungsoo can blink, Sehun has slipped past him and engulfed himself in the crowd of performers. Kyungsoo huffs out, shoulders deflating, before he decides to meet up with Chanyeol who is, as usual, setting up their station.

 

“Why do you look so grumpy?” Chanyeol asks once Kyungsoo wanders up to their stage. 

 

Kyungsoo seats himself on the edge of their stage, overlooking the rest of the tent. With no customers here, he has a perfect view of the entire ring and everything around it. “I’m irritated with everyone being so damn cryptic.”

 

“Cryptic?” Chanyeol chuckles from where he’s knelt, tweaking one of their props. “You do share a room with a fortune teller, you know.”

 

Kyungsoo blinks, watching Yixing and Song Qian talk pleasantly with each other over by the pony rides. “Baek, despite his ways, has proven to be nothing but an open book.”

 

“You’re right,” Chanyeol says. “He always sounds like he knows everything  _ because  _ he knows everything.”

 

Kyungsoo chuckles, swinging his feet as they dangle over the edge of the stage. Song Qian is laughing at something Yixing said, her laugh a pretty and alluring sound. “I was talking about Sehun. And Jongin.”

 

“Jongin? Cryptic?”

 

“Well, he’s certainly not much of a sharer.” 

 

“You make a good point,” Chanyeol says, sitting himself next to Kyungsoo. His feet touch the floor from where they’re sitting, though.

 

They both sit and watch, studying the activity of the workers before them setting up last minute details. Yixing gets up from his seat atop the low fence that surrounds the pony ride area, squeezing Song Qian’s arm in a sign of departure. She leans in, kissing him on the cheek before waving him off. They’re a handsome couple, Kyungsoo finds. They’re both attractive and smart and caring and punctilious; something like the mother and father of the entire operation. Despite all this, though, something about seeing the two of them together makes Kyungsoo feel strange. As if something is not quite right.

 

He doesn’t have any time to ponder this revelation, as Chanyeol is patting his thigh and telling him it’s time to get into their places to begin tonight’s festivities. Kyungsoo climbs up from his seat with a groan, shaking himself into character before the gates open for the guests to arrive. 

 

\-----

 

That evening, Kyungsoo takes his time doing everything. It’s a slow walk to his bunker, an unnecessarily long shower, tediously changing into his pajamas for the night. His mind is so distracted, cogitating in circles what Sehun had said. What did he mean by “normal friend”? And how could Kyungsoo possibly talk to Jongin about the problem, when as far as Kyungsoo can tell, there is no problem? It’s tiring him out, and he just wants to sleep.

 

Except, he can’t. He’s been lying in bed hopelessly for god knows how long, willing himself to sleep but to no avail. He sighs, rolling over once again, in hopes of perhaps finding a position comfortable enough to allow him to slip into slumber.

 

“I can hear you thinking from down here, little one,” Baekhyun says, startling Kyungsoo. He was sure Baekhyun had fallen asleep ages ago. 

 

“Go to sleep, Baek.”

 

“Something’s bothering you. Get down here, already.”

 

Kyungsoo sighs. He debates it, a moment, but soon decides it’s better than lying here with only his thoughts. He’ll never sleep at this rate. So, he slides out from under his sheets, climbing down into Baekhyun’s bed.

 

“You know,” Kyungsoo says as he situates himself under Baekhyun’s sheets. Immediately, the older boy is scooting in closer to share Kyungsoo’s warmth. “If we keep sleeping in the same bed like this, people will start talking.”

 

“I believe they already have,” Baekhyun hums, sliding his arms around Kyungsoo’s waist. “And that’s why you were up there tossing and turning.”

 

Kyungsoo sighs, once more, letting Baekhyun cozy himself under his chin. The scent of Baekhyun’s hair is somewhat comforting and it eases his senses just a subtle amount. “Jongin has been acting strange. I don’t know why he won’t talk to me.”

 

“He’s just jealous that I got to sleep with you before he did,” Baekhyun teases, grin audible in his voice.

 

Kyungsoo swats at Baekhyun’s chest. “I’m being serious, Baekhyunnie! I don’t know what I did wrong.”

 

Baek sighs, sounding a tad frustrated. “Talk to him.”

 

“There inlies the problem,” Kyungsoo mumbles. “He won’t talk to me.”

 

Baekhyun shuffles, somehow pressing in closer to Kyungsoo. It’s admittedly endearing, how clingy and cuddlesome a sleepy Baekhyun is, though he’d never voice that aloud. “Give him some time, Soo. He won’t last long without you. You’re both so weird and quiet and a perfect fit, I don’t even know what he did before you came along.”

 

Kyungsoo hums in thought, his eyes finally willing to drift shut. “Maybe,” he murmurs. “I’ll try again tomorrow.”

 

“Tomorrow,” Baekhyun hums, and it’s the last thing Kyungsoo hears before he drifts off to sleep.

  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

Kyungsoo mumbles and grumbles, climbing into one of the storage carts. Chanyeol had gone and torn one of their handkerchiefs right through while rehearsing. It isn't entirely Chanyeol’s fault, as the fabric was old and considerably worn, but Kyungsoo finds comfort in blaming him, regardless. He’s terribly grumpy. Jongin still avoided him through breakfast. 

 

“It's the big purple trunk,” Chanyeol directs. Chanyeol and his perpetually sunny disposition immediately saw the inconvenience as a chance to show Kyungsoo the storage carts. Kyungsoo wonders how he does that - see the good in everything. 

 

Kyungsoo opens the trunk, having to stand on his tiptoes to reach down into it. Chanyeol stands over his shoulder, watching as Kyungsoo grabs a bag of replacement handkerchiefs. Then, he laughs, reaching in with ease to pull out a bag of rabbit food. 

 

“Ah, Yura loved that bunny.” He gives the bag a little shake, the seeds inside responding with noise. Kyungsoo visibly stiffens at the mention of Chanyeol’s late sister, nervous about the topic of conversation. Chanyeol glances up at Kyungsoo with sparkling eyes. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to keep a bunny living on a train? We cut the Bunny Segment early into our career.”

 

Kyungsoo feels like he needs to talk about it. There’s an obligatory weight against his shoulders, watching the way Chanyeol gazes longingly into the bin of memorabilia. He sighs, continuing searching through the bag for a handkerchief the right colour. 

 

“Your sister,” Kyungsoo starts, “Did she love magic as much as you do?”

 

Chanyeol’s gaze flits over to where Kyungsoo stands. His eyes are sad but his smile is genuine. “Even moreso. It was actually her that developed all of our tricks.”

 

Kyungsoo blinks, surprised. “Then why wasn't she the magician and you the assistant?” 

 

Chanyeol smiles a little wider, now, reaching back into the bin to set the bag of rabbit food down. “She felt no one would take her seriously, being a woman and all. She was a humble woman.”

 

“Indeed.” Kyungsoo finally retrieves a burgundy handkerchief, tossing the bag back in the bin. He glances at Chanyeol, again. The taller man doesn't look ready to leave. It saddens Kyungsoo. Chanyeol is nothing but loud laughter and sunny smiles, but right now he looks unprecedentedly sentimental. So, Kyungsoo decides to continue. “How did the two of you stumble into the world of circus magic?”

 

Chanyeol watches Kyungsoo, as if debating inwardly whether or not he wants to talk about it. It’s been almost a year since Yura’s death, however, and Kyungsoo is sure Chanyeol has been itching to talk about her since it happened. He must miss her dearly. Kyungsoo knows, from experience, that talking to someone about the one you miss is refreshing, uplifting, and a comforting source of closure. 

 

“We were orphans,” Chanyeol starts, deciding to sit down. Kyungsoo follows, the two of them leaning their backs against the trunk. “Yura was sixteen when my father died. Our mother had been gone for a long time, so Yura was already the mother of the household.” 

 

Chanyeol stops, staring at the grain in the wooden floor. His eyes swim, saturated in memories and emotions. Kyungsoo doesn't rush him. He simply waits until Chanyeol’s thoughtful expression breaks into a smile. 

 

“She was brave. A good older sister. She fought the judicial system for custody of me, even though she was still a minor.” 

 

Kyungsoo frowns. Yura couldn't have been more than a couple of years older than Chanyeol, and her ability to claim responsibility for her brother is nothing if not admirable. 

 

“She was rejected. She didn't tell me, though, although I figured it out. I wasn't a child, after all, but she took me to a magic show to distract me. Perhaps make me feel better. Or herself better, I’m not sure.” 

 

Kyungsoo smiles. “And then she got an idea.”

 

Chanyeol smiles back. “Exactly. She was a smart one, you know. It took her hardly any time to have a few tricks perfectly choreographed. Flip a few pages and we’re here, performing almost every night, comfortable, happy, and most importantly, together.” 

 

Another moment in silent thought. Chanyeol’s expression drops. What was once sentimental and warm is now sallow, mournful. Kyungsoo feels like his own breathing is too loud, the cart so quiet around them. Chanyeol’s thoughts appear too loud, though. 

 

“You should have got here, sooner.” His voice is so broken, the sound of shattered glass, Kyungsoo feels a physical pain in his chest. “You might have saved her.”

 

Kyungsoo has pondered that thought, before. Yura was still alive the first time he went to the circus, over a year ago. If he had decided to run away with them that year, instead, he would have been around to treat Yura when her health plummeted. He may not have cured her tuberculosis, but he could have prevented it once she developed the initial cold. 

 

He is not looking forward to the winter. The train is so poorly climatized. He’s understaffed and undersupplied. Besides a menial first aid kit, there's no other medication handy. Everything he needs, he’ll have to buy from whatever city they're momentarily visiting. 

 

He’s also grown incredibly close to the people he’s living with. Kyungsoo can't think of a single soul aboard he wouldn't be mortified to see go. He loves Chanyeol, he loves Baekhyun, Amber, Soojung, Yixing, everyone. Especially Jongin. It saddens him, thinking this way. Knowing that the staff’s lives are somehow in his hands. His hands aren't very big. Perhaps he should pass them over to Chanyeol. 

 

“I’m sorry,” is what Kyungsoo says. 

 

“It isn't anyone’s fault,” is what Chanyeol says. Then he sighs. “It is what it is.”

 

“I hate that saying,” Kyungsoo scowls. Chanyeol looks at him, amused. “Of course it is. It’s just stating the obvious.” 

 

“Kyungsoo, I’m starting to get the feeling there’s a lot of things you hate.” There’s nothing bitter or accusatory in his words, though. Merely amusement. Kyungsoo shrugs, unable to deny it. Chanyeol pats him on the shoulder, a friendly gesture, before saying, “Alright, let’s get to work.”

 

The day is long and incredibly warm. Soon, Kyungsoo is packed between bodies in the backstage tent, bathed in yellow light and the smell of hairspray. Although he usually finds the hustle and bustle amusing and fascinating, he’s grumpy today. Grumpy and upset and irritated. Being around so many bodies is not good for his disposition.

 

To make matters worse, he spots Jongin across the room, standing idly. He doesn’t seem to have anything to be doing, just waiting for a vanity mirror to vacate so he can apply his stage makeup. Kyungsoo pounces at the opportunity. Whether Jongin likes it or not, they’re talking about this.

 

As Kyungsoo stalks his way over to the other side of the room, Sehun’s words continue to spin in his head.  _ “He can never be just a regular friend.”  _ What on earth does that mean? It’s driving Kyungsoo entirely mad.

 

Wide, honeyed, panicked eyes meet his. “Oh.”

 

“Jongin, I need to talk to you.” Before the taller boy can even respond, Kyungsoo is gripping his wrist tight and pulling him out of the tent.

 

They settle for just outside the tent, hunkering down to sit in the grass. The sounds of commotion are still audible through the fabric walls, but not enough to overpower their conversation. Loud enough to know that no one will be listening in. Judging by the way Jongin’s shoulders hunch up, the way his gaze skirts along the grass, Kyungsoo thinks this is a conversation for only them.

 

“Jongin, may I ask what I did to offend you?”

 

Those soft eyes are immediately on him, wide, hysteric. “You have not offended me!”

 

Kyungsoo blinks. He’s so confused. “Well, then, what ever is the matter? You’ve hardly said a word to me over the past couple of days.”

 

Jongin isn’t looking up but Kyungsoo can read the guilt from him. Like it’s seeping from his pores, saturating the air. It makes Kyungsoo feel guilty for even bringing up the topic. Why does Jongin always have such an effect on him?

 

“I’m sorry,” the acrobat says, voice small. “That’s just my own head being silly. You did nothing. I was reading into things.”

 

“Like what?” Kyungsoo inquires, leaning back on his hands. “You mean when you walked in on Baekhyun clinging to me?”

 

Jongin all but giggles, his cheeks turning vivid pink. Ah, how Kyungsoo’s missed him. “I guess you could say that.”

 

Kyungsoo laughs, watching Jongin visibly relax. This is good. “Well, what is there to read into? The movie freaked me out so I slept in Baek’s bed. Not my fault the man has a physical dependency on human warmth.”

 

Jongin chuckles, dark hair dancing in the slight breeze across his brow. He once again insists to Kyungsoo that it’s nothing and he was being silly. Kyungsoo decides to believe him. Or at least to drop the topic.

 

They sit together for a little while, enjoying the peace and quiet each other’s company brings. The afternoon is lovely and warm, a breeze picking up. Kyungsoo realizes, reluctantly, that he could be in the middle of a snow storm, but he would still feel comfortable so long as Jongin is there. He feels like he should be pushing thoughts like that away, but he decides to accept it.

 

“You know, Nini,” Kyungsoo sighs, glancing over at Jongin. The younger boy has occupied himself tugging at the grass beneath him, but he glances up at Kyungsoo’s voice. “I really don’t think anything beats how nice and quiet you are.”

 

Jongin flushes, breathing out a laugh. “I don’t do it on purpose. I just don’t understand how people like Baekhyun and Chanyeol can make so much noise.”

 

Kyungsoo snorts. “Please, being friends with the likes of Kim Jongdae conditioned me to tuning out loud noises.”

 

Jongin blinks, recognition flooding his features. “Kim Jongdae?” Ah. Kyungsoo nearly forgot that they knew each other once. That Jongdae was a part of Jongin’s old life - even if just a tiny bit.

 

“Yes, he was one of my closest friends in college.” Kyungsoo tries to phrase it delicately. He doesn’t want to accidentally stumble onto unwelcome ground. “He… When we came to the circus the year before, he’d pointed you out. Said he knew you, once.”

 

A warm smile spreads across Jongin’s lips, perfect teeth on display. He sighs, laying back and using his arms as a pillow. He looks up at the sky wistfully. “Ah, Kim Jongdae. Nice family. Lovely parents.”

 

It warms Kyungsoo’s heart a little bit to hear Jongin say such nice things about his old friend. No matter how much fun Kyungsoo’s been having, he certainly has missed his friends. He sometimes wonders what Jongdae and Minseok would think, seeing him bind sprained ankles and assist a magic show all in one day. He wonders what they would think of Jongin, if they would like him as much as he does. 

 

“Say, Jongin,” Kyungsoo says, casually glancing around the sunny afternoon, the blue sky, the green grass. Jongin hums in acknowledgement and Kyungsoo continues, “How did you end up becoming a circus acrobat?”

 

There’s a moment of quiet, Jongin’s answer brewing in his mind, sitting up straight. Kyungsoo watches him from the corner of his eye. The way his lips purse as he ponders, crafts his answer in the most carefully worded way. Kyungsoo does appreciate how careful Jongin is with his words, but sometimes he wishes he would just say whatever comes to mind. Like Baekhyun.

 

“I used to be a dancer.”

 

“Oh?” His eyebrows shoot up in interest.

 

“Yes, ballet. I loved it. I was so good at it.” Jongin’s smile is wistful, wonderful. Like he can still feel the ground spinning beneath his toes in a pirouette. Kyungsoo has never seen Jongin dance, but judging by how gracefully he does absolutely  _ everything _ , he’s certain Jongin was a beautiful dancer.

 

“So why did you stop?”

 

A sigh. “My father despised me for it. He would hit me both physically and verbally. Tell me it was such a feminine hobby, that I was supposed to be his son not a fairy.” The laugh that Jongin lets out is cynical, bitter. It makes Kyungsoo’s stomach churn. “It was my escape, you know. My father had exposed me to so many things I’d like to forget and when I was dancing… They were all forgotten.”

 

Kyungsoo lets the words stir around in his mind for a little. He contemplates this information, how Jongin had been exposed to terrible things. Things one would like to forget. He gasps, subtly, quietly. “What you said to me that first day,” Kyungsoo says. Jongin furrows his brow, as if searching for the memory. “You said you’d seen alcohol turn respectable men into monsters.”

 

Jongin smiles, but it isn’t sweet like it normally is. The corners of his lips are tainted with bitterness, brokenness. “Yes. Before prohibition took place, when it was easier to get alcohol, my dad practically ran a pub from our home.”

 

Kyungsoo hesitates. “Did they harm you, Jongin?”

 

Jongin takes a long time to answer. It makes Kyungsoo worry, wringing his hands together in his lap. “Not me. My sister.” He pauses, hugging his legs to his chest and burying his face between his knees. He releases a shattered sigh and Kyungsoo scoots closer, placing a comforting hand between Jongin’s shoulder blades. “My poor sister.”

 

“I’m sorry, Jongin,” Kyungsoo’s voice is whisper-soft, but he knows Jongin heard it. A shiver travels from the base of Jongin’s spine up and Kyungsoo rubs gentle circles into his back. “You don’t have to tell me everything, if it hurts.”

 

Jongin’s voice is a tad muffled from between his legs, but Kyungsoo still hears him when he says, “I haven’t.” Then he sits up, looking the older boy right in the eye. “I’m not ready to share it. You’re not ready to hear it.”

 

Kyungsoo blinks, his chest feeling tight. He’s unsure what he means by that, and is suddenly very curious. Despite his curiosity, though, he respects Jongin and his feelings. If Jongin doesn’t feel the time is right, Kyungsoo will merely have to be patient. So, instead of pestering for more, he says, “Thank you for sharing, Jongin.”

 

“Of course,” Jongin replies. His expression softens, resting his cheek against his knees so he can look up at Kyungsoo. “I trust you greatly, Soo.”

 

“I’m honoured. Now, go, you have to get some glitter on you before the show starts.”

 

\-----

 

Today is the last day in this city, so once the tents are down and packed away, the party begins. It’s impossible to feel the train moving beneath Kyungsoo’s feet, as the cart is shaking with footsteps and loud music. Baekhyun, as ever, is the life of the party. He stands on a table, exhibiting admittedly talented dance moves, excited grin on his face. Kyungsoo sits back in his seat at the other side of the cart, watching as everyone laughs around him and cheers him on. Kyungsoo sometimes envies the lad. Kyungsoo sometimes wishes he could make everyone fall so easily in love with him as Baek does. It’s a skill that could be very useful.

 

He doesn’t need everyone to love him, though. Just Jongin - who’s seated next to him, head resting on Kyungsoo’s shoulder - is all he really cares about. The only opinion that matters, really. Kyungsoo wonders when that became a fact. At what point did Jongin become so important to him?

 

Sehun is on Jongin’s other side, chatting away with him about something to which Kyungsoo isn’t listening. The side that Jongin is curled up against is warm, his hands cold as they’re wrapped around his glass of water. He watches the crowd, the way Junmyeon and Sunyoung dance together with huge happy smiles on their faces, the way Yixing looks a tad horrified at Baekhyun shaking so precariously from that high up. Kyungsoo isn’t concerned. Even if Baekhyun falls and hits his head, perhaps it will knock some of the crazy out of him.

 

“Soo,” Jongin shakes his arm, “come dance with us.”

 

Kyungsoo blinks at Jongin, who looks eager and pink in the heat. He looks up at Sehun, who’s standing, waiting for them to follow. Kyungsoo ponders it a moment before shaking his head, smiling. “No, no. I assure you, I’m terrible.”

 

“You can’t be any worse than Junmyeon,” Sehun snickers. Kyungsoo laughs.

 

“You’re right. But, really, go on without me.”

 

Jongin pouts, but retreats, anyway. He watches as the two acrobats squeeze themselves into the designated dance floor, a crooked little smile on his lips. Very little time passes before the seat next to him is being occupied. He glances to his right to see Soojung, hair loose around her face. 

 

“Hey, doc,” She greets with a smile. He nods his head in greeting before turning back to watch Jongin spin and jump and laugh on the dance floor. He’s the only one who looks considerably coordinated, as everyone else is filled with alcohol and a general lack of rhythm. Sehun isn’t too bad, though his moves are a bit sloppy with the booze streaming through his veins. A little while passes before Soojung is speaking again, her words causing Kyungsoo’s heart to halt in his chest.

 

“He’s a really easy person to fall in love with, you know.”

 

The air dissipates from Kyungsoo’s lungs. Her words feel like an accusation, though he’s unsure why. He squeezes his glass of water tighter in his grip, blinking at the woman next to him before saying, “Whom?”

 

She stares at him for a moment, clearly unimpressed. “Jongin, obviously.”

 

Kyungsoo can feel heat rising to his cheeks and he hates it. He utterly despises it. Why is he panicking? Soojung said nothing accusatory, nothing that should make Kyungsoo feel offended, exposed. So why on earth is his body panicking?

 

“What do you mean?” He says, voice small.

 

Another long stare from an unimpressed Soojung. “I  _ mean _ it’s easy to fall in love with Jongin. I’ve done it. A lot of people have done it.”

 

Kyungsoo can’t shake the thought that she’s accusing him of loving Jongin. Of course he loves Jongin, but is he  _ in love  _ with Jongin? Impossible. Kyungsoo can’t love Jongin. Jongin may be beautiful and gentle and sweet and understanding, but he is a man, nevertheless. Instead of saying more, he just nods at Soojung, turning back to watch the crowd get sloppier and sloppier.

 

There’s a loud thud followed by a collective gasp from the swarm of bodies. Through the bodies and heads, Kyungsoo gets a fragmented sight of Yixing helping Baekhyun off the ground. The fortune teller has his face pinched in pain, clutching his wrist to his chest as Yixing lifts him to his feet. Good. An escape from this conversation.

 

“Excuse me,” Kyungsoo says, rising from his seat. “I believe my services are needed.”

 

He weaves through the crowd of people, grabbing Jongin’s wrist and giving him a departing nod. Jongin smiles, mutters his good-night and continues dancing. Kyungsoo is soon breaking free from the sea of people, Yixing and Baekhyun’s retreating backs in sight.

 

He follows them into the cart he shares with Baekhyun. Yixing is muttering things to Baek, who appears to have tears pooling in his eyelashes, his wrist held delicately against his chest. As Baekhyun is being gently seated at the edge of his bed, Kyungsoo dives down for the box of medical equipment he keeps under their bunk bed. Yixing is speaking gently to Baekhyun, asking him how much it hurts and where exactly. Baekhyun sniffles a bit, running a finger along the outside edge of his wrist, foggy drunk eyes visibly sobering up.

 

Kyungsoo runs to the bathroom to soak a cloth in cold water, returning to press the cool against where Baekhyun’s wrist hurts most. He hisses, but his shoulders relax, the cool cloth clearly bringing some sort of comfort. Kyungsoo looks over his shoulder at Yixing, knowing he’s sober enough to give a better response than Baekhyun.

 

“He landed on his hand when he fell,” Yixing explains, running his hands through his hair. “I feel terrible, I should have caught him, I didn’t act fast enough.”

 

“It’s not your fault, Xing,” Baekhyun mutters. Kyungsoo nods at Yixing in agreement. Yixing glances down at the floor, looking defeated. 

 

“How much does it hurt, Baek?”

 

A sniffle. “A lot. It isn’t unbearable, though. The cold cloth helps.” 

 

“Okay, good. Hold this here,” he says, letting Baekhyun take over holding the cloth. He opens his box of supplies, retrieving the tensor bandage. There’s a crash from the dining cart and everyone’s heads shoot up at the sound. Yixing hesitates, clearly debating his options. “Go, Yixing. I have this under control.”

 

Yixing nods, reaching over to ruffle up Baekhyun’s hair before exiting the cart and rushing toward the crash. Kyungsoo removes the cloth from Baekhyun’s wrist, wrapping it up in the bandage, despite Baekhyun’s disapproving groans. 

 

“It’s just a twist, Baek. It’ll most likely be back to normal in a few days, a week or so tops.” Baekhyun nods in understanding, scooting back on the bed so his back is resting against the wall. He pats the spot next to him and Kyungsoo complies, sitting on the bed beside the fortune teller, crossing his legs beneath him. 

 

There’s a moment of quiet between them. A rare occurrence when Baekhyun and his loud mouth are involved. Kyungsoo soaks in it, appreciating the moment of peace.

 

“You seem shaken up,” Baekhyun breaks the silence, making Kyungsoo's spine go rigid. “What’s on your mind?”

 

Kyungsoo chuckles. “I thought you knew everything.”

 

A sleepy smile from Baekhyun. A slowly sobering Baekhyun is sad looking, sluggish and distant. As if his thoughts are too loud for him to be aware of anything else. “I do know everything, little one. I still want to hear it from you, though.”

 

Kyungsoo takes a breath. He knows that Baekhyun is too perceptive, too calculative for Kyungsoo to fool. “It’s something Soojung said to me. I don't know what she meant by it, but it made me feel… exposed. Like a secret was revealed.”

 

Baekhyun blinks at Kyungsoo, mouth relaxed into its natural downturn. “It was about Jongin, wasn't it?”

 

Kyungsoo doesn't need to say anything. Baekhyun knows the answer. The older boy looks away from Kyungsoo, down at his hands folded in his lap, the bandage around his wrist. “You love him, don't you?”

 

Here we go again! Why does everyone think Kyungsoo is in love with Jongin? His chest tightens again, his brow furrowing. “Is it even possible?” Kyungsoo says without thinking. He feels defeated, wide open. “Is it even possible for me to love another man?”

 

Baekhyun’s smile is small and everything but genuine. “Of course it is.”

 

Kyungsoo halts, whipping his gaze up to Baek’s face. The man looks sad, saturated in guilt, confusion. Kyungsoo’s heart breaks and he isn't sure why. “How could you be so sure?”

 

A chuckle. “I can see the future, little one. It happens all the time someday, I promise.”

 

Kyungsoo tsks, shaking his head even though Baekhyun isn't looking at him. Kyungsoo watches his face, distracted and distant. It hits him, then, the realization. “It’s Yixing isn't it?”

 

Baekhyun doesn't respond. His lips purse tighter, his brow furrows deeper, his eyes bore into the sheets below him, as if he can visualize his thoughts against the cotton. Kyungsoo wants to say more, but Baekhyun already looks too raw and exposed and Kyungsoo would hate to cause him more discomfort. 

 

Baekhyun does eventually speak. His voice is rough, broken with emotion as he mutters, “There is no future for me in Yixing.”

 

Kyungsoo frowns, shaking his head. “Baek, quit acting like you can actually see the future. You know nothing.”

 

“Harsh.”

 

“No, helpful.” Kyungsoo sits up, leaning into Baekhyun’s space. “You don't know the future, Baek. You think you're so perceptive, yet you don't notice the way Yixing cares for you.”

 

“Yixing cares for everyone.”

 

“Not the way he cares for you, Baek,” Kyungsoo says. He hasn't a clue what's come over him. What on earth is he even saying? Is it plausible that Yixing loves Baekhyun? It makes sense. No one has ever looked at anyone as warmly as the way the ring leader looks at Baekhyun. No one has ever worried about someone as much as Yixing does Baek. All this time Kyungsoo has felt that Yixing and Baekhyun had an inexplicable, unprecedented type of friendship. A level of trust between two friends he hadn't seen before. He understands, now, that it's always been something more. 

 

“Baekhyun, I’m certain that Yixing loves you, too.”

 

Baek doesn't appear as though he accepts Kyungsoo's words. But, at the very least, he smiles and meets Kyungsoo’s gaze. 

 

“You're a good friend, Kyungsoo. Tell Jongin how you feel.” 

 

Then, the fortune teller is scooting over in bed, burrowing himself beneath the covers. Kyungsoo takes that as his cue, rising to shut off the lamp and climb up into his bed. It takes him a while to fall asleep, pondering over everything that's been said to him tonight. Pondering over everything he’s ever felt around Jongin. 

 

He can't entirely comprehend it. He can't entirely accept it, quite yet. But he doesn't decline the thought, either. Perhaps, just maybe, it’s possible that Kyungsoo can love another man. Especially one as incredible as Kim Jongin. 

 

But that doesn't change the fact that Jongin probably doesn't love Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo pretends that doesn't make his heart feel heavy. 

 

\-----

The next day is slow and sluggish. Kyungsoo is exhausted from his fitful sleep, the night before. He spends the day in a corner of a quiet, unoccupied cart with Jongin. Kyungsoo lays his head in Jongin’s lap as the younger boy reads, letting himself drift in and out of sleep. 

 

Jongin’s lap is warm beneath him. His breath is steady and relaxing above him. The younger boy occasionally chuckles or hums at what he’s reading and it makes Kyungsoo's chest flutter with fondness. He lets himself soak in it, rather than push the thoughts away. There is no sense in denying that Kyungsoo is his happiest, his most comfortable, his most content, when he’s with Jongin.

 

He wakes up to the feeling of Jongin’s fingers skirting through his hair. His heart leaps into his throat. Never before has Kyungsoo wanted to reach up and kiss someone so bad. 

 

No. He has to fight it. He could lose Jongin if he lets these feelings take over. He could scare Jongin away if he doesn't suppress it. No matter how much he would love to embrace this, he would rather keep Jongin close. Even if it is only at arm’s reach. 

 

“How was your nap?” Jongin speaks up, startling Kyungsoo. 

 

“Much needed,” he smiles. 

 

Jongin hums, fingernails scraping Kyungsoo’s scalp at the base of his skull. It’s enough to have Kyungsoo wanting to fall back asleep. 

 

They're interrupted, though, by Sehun finding them. He walks over to them, hovering over with his hands in his hips and a mischievous smirk on his little mouth. “Comfy?”

 

“Very,” Kyungsoo mumbles, trying to sink further into Jongin’s thighs. It earns a giggle from Jongin who tugs playfully at his hair. 

 

“I hate to interrupt,” Sehun says, “but Jongin is needed elsewhere.” 

 

It’s a slow process, detangling themselves from each other. Kyungsoo’s joints pop and crack as he straightens up. Jongin chuckles at him, stretching his arms above his head. He departs then, following Sehun out of the cart. Kyungsoo watches him go, feeling inexplicably guilty for something he hasn't even done. 

 

He starts to wander back toward his own bunker, feeling irreparably stupid. He’s so stupid. He can't continue to fool himself into thinking that this is all acceptable. He needs to forget about this, or else Jongin will catch on and they’ll never be the same again. No more wanting to kiss him. There is no kissing your best friend. 

 

Kyungsoo is about to step through the ajar door to his cart when he hears a small gasp from inside. It’s breathless, but not in panic. He furrows his brow, quietly peeking through the crack in the door. He sees Yixing, seated at the edge of Baekhyun’s bed. He has a lap full of Baekhyun, the younger’s arms wrapped possessively around the ring leader’s shoulders.

 

And they're kissing. 

 

Kyungsoo steps back, completely in shock. He hears Yixing mutter something in Chinese, something Kyungsoo doesn't understand. Baekhyun apparently does, though, as he’s chuckling breathlessly in response, diving back in to kiss him again. 

 

Kyungsoo feels like he’s intruding, knowing this is far too intimate for him to have seen. He spins on his heel, he’ll go find Chanyeol or someone. He doesn't need to nap, suddenly. He feels wide awake. 

 

Despite feeling scandalized, like he’s seen something he wasn't supposed to, he feels liberated. If Baekhyun and Yixing can kiss their best friend, so can Kyungsoo. That is, of course, if Jongin would let him. 

  
  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

Kyungsoo cannot, for the life of him, fall asleep.

 

He’s in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, coated in darkness. Baekhyun’s breath is loud below him, just uneven enough that Kyungsoo knows he’s awake. Kyungsoo really wants to discuss this with him. He wants to inquire about it, but he can’t find the strength to do so.

 

All that’s been swimming through Kyungsoo’s mind since he accidentally stumbled in on Baekhyun and Yixing earlier that day is the Chinese phrase Yixing had murmured. He can hear the syllables, foreign as they are, repeating themselves between his ears like a scratched record. He’s curious, excited, elated for his friends. Yet, he’s sure Baekhyun would rather keep this a secret.

 

Regardless, Kyungsoo decides he can’t take it anymore. “What does,” he stutters over the syllables that have been haunting his thoughts, “mean?”

 

He hears Baekhyun’s breath hitch from the bunk below him. Kyungsoo can practically picture it, the way Baek’s spine goes rigid and his eyes widen.

 

“You saw, didn’t you?” Baekhyun eventually says, after an extensive moment of silence. 

 

“What does it mean?”

 

Baekhyun chuckles, despite his nerves. Kyungsoo can hear the ruffling of his sheets, then the quiet thuds of hands and feet against the ladder. He scoots over in bed to make room for Baekhyun, who inevitably appears, burying himself in Kyungsoo’s sheets. 

 

“You really don’t want to know what it means.”

 

Kyungsoo gets the hint. “Very well.”

 

Hands wander to Kyungsoo’s waist and Kyungsoo lets Baekhyun slide in closer. He’s become accustomed to Baekhyun’s affectionate habits, admittedly growing quite fond of them. Baekhyun is always soft and warm, his shampoo a welcome scent as he cozies up against Kyungsoo’s chest and takes a deep, sleepy sigh.

 

“You won’t tell anyone, right?” His voice is the smallest, most tentative Kyungsoo has ever heard it. An odd tone for Baekhyun’s normally confident or mischievous voice. 

 

“Of course not.” Kyungsoo wraps his arms around Baekhyun’s shoulders, feeling closer to sleep than he had all night. “I’m happy for you, Baek.”

 

Baekhyun’s smile is palpable, a physical feeling against Kyungsoo’s chest. He’s practically vibrating, letting out a breathy little giggle. “Me, too.”

 

Kyungsoo sighs. Baekhyun tells him in a whisper what happened, every detail. He tells him about wanting to kiss Yixing and seeing that Yixing wanted to kiss him, too. It’s sweet, Kyungsoo thinks, the excitement in every breath that escapes Baekhyun’s lips. It’s a foreign concept to him, boys kissing boys. It’s something he was never taught, never exposed to, never accustomed to. But, it’s undeniable, in the way that Baekhyun elaborates, that there is absolutely nothing wrong about it. Apparently, it was nothing short of perfect.

 

Kyungsoo is a tad envious.

 

Baekhyun is so happy. Baekhyun kissed his best friend and his best friend kissed back. Baekhyun is in love and has accepted it, admitted it. Sure, it’s better to keep it hush than to anticipate what others may think. But Baekhyun gets to free-fall, arms wide open, into something he knows will make him happy.

 

Kyungsoo wishes it were that easy for him.

 

Eventually, Baekhyun’s words dissipate into low mumbles. He’s drifting off into sleep and Kyungsoo can’t deny his eyelids are feeling heavy, as well. He needs to rest. Tomorrow they’ll be arriving at their next location and there will be much work to do. He sighs deeply, letting exhaustion consume him.

 

\-----

 

“Soo,” a whisper-soft voice invades Kyungsoo’s dreams. His mind swirls, searching for a face to match the voice, spinning and spinning. 

 

“Soo,” it says again. His mind finally stops spinning, focussing on an image of Jongin. Every image of Jongin. Jongin in sunlight, in low light, wearing a frown, beaming with laughter. His eyes flutter open, eager to immortalized a new image of Jongin. 

 

It’s beautiful as ever. A sleepy, puffy-eyed, early morning Jongin. He’s standing on one of the first steps of the ladder, peeking over the edge of the bed and poking the arm that's wrapped around Baekhyun’s waist. Kyungsoo opens his mouth to speak but Jongin quickly puts a finger to his lips, the universal signal for remaining quiet. Kyungsoo’s lips obey, pursing tightly together. 

 

Jongin gestures for Kyungsoo to follow and he can't say no. He’ll probably never say no to Jongin. It's tricky, peeling himself from the static electricity he calls a roommate, but he manages. The minute he has both feet on the ground, Jongin is hugging him. 

 

“What was that for?” Kyungsoo whispers once they pull apart. His smile is inescapable, letting Jongin grab his wrist and drag him from carriage to carriage. 

 

“I missed you,” Jongin states, as if it's an obvious fact. “Hurry, Yixing’s mom found some dragonfruit and she only has a few. I wanted to beat the rush.”

 

Kyungsoo doesn't bother to mention that he isn't particularly fond of dragonfruit. He is, however, delighted to see Jongin so ecstatic so early. Usually the boy is slow and soft in the morning, taking forever to unravel the sleep from his skin. “How do you know this?”

 

Jongin smiles bashfully at Kyungsoo as they finally reach the dining cart. “Don't tell anyone, but I think Ms. Zhang might have a crush on me.” 

 

“Might?” Kyungsoo quirks a brow. “Isn't it a guarantee that  _ everybody _ has a crush on you?”

 

A familiar flush kisses Jongin’s cheeks. He’s so pretty, Kyungsoo feels his stomach leap into his throat. He’s probably just hungry, however. “Kyungsoo,” Jongin’s voice is permanently too sweet to ever scold, but he tries his hardest, “you really must stop flirting with me. I might just get the wrong idea about you.”

 

_ Or the right one _ , is what Kyungsoo should be saying aloud. However, his mouth remains closed though he likely looks like a deer in the headlights. He doesn't have a moment to collect his thoughts, as Jongin is quickly heading over to the kitchen. 

 

He utterly charms Yixing’s mother, who's busy slaving away with her kitchen staff to prepare breakfast. Her apron is filthy and her hair is falling away from its ponytail and there’s a slight sheen of sweat on her forehead, but she beams ecstatically in the face of Jongin’s welcoming smile. Kyungsoo’s glad to know Jongin doesn't only have that effect on him particularly. It’s just Jongin and his pretty eyes and warm smile. 

 

They sit together, plates of waffles - with dragonfruit, of course - in front of them just as the cart starts filling up. The two of them remain in a quiet corner, however, whispering sparse words between bites. Kyungsoo ends up giving his dragonfruit to Jongin. He doesn't really like it, anyway, and the brightness behind Jongin’s irises as Kyungsoo pushes the fruit onto his plate is a sight to behold. 

 

Kyungsoo notices Baek doesn't come to breakfast. He did notice Yixing walk straight through the dining cart and toward where Baekhyun is still, presumably, sleeping. 

 

“I have something to show you, today,” Jongin says. 

 

“Oh?”

 

Jongin smiles around a mouthful. “The city we’ve stopped in, it's my favourite city to visit.” 

 

Kyungsoo hums, resting his chin in his hand. “And why is that?”

 

“There’s this little river. I want to take you there.” 

 

Kyungsoo’s heart leaps. He loves the sound of that. Just he and Jongin and a little river, spending the afternoon under the warm summer sun. He’s eager, no sense in denying it, and if the look in Jongin’s sugary eyes is any indication, he is as well. 

 

There are some things that need to be done that morning. They aren't scheduled to begin performances until tomorrow but there's much work to do. Kyungsoo spends a majority of the morning repainting props with Chanyeol. Chanyeol is good company. He likes to talk and sometimes Kyungsoo doesn't mind listening. 

 

Jongin is going to be a while. Surprisingly to Kyungsoo, Jongin learned how to sew and is busy repairing some of the worn out performance costumes. Kyungsoo decides to visit Jamba with Amber. Then he goes back to his cart where he finds Yixing and Baekhyun, both lying in Baekhyun’s bed and laughing hysterically at something. They're a friendly presence, tugging Kyungsoo onto the bed with them and continuing to joke and giggle until Kyungsoo is just as giddy. He doesn't realize how tired he is until he’s falling asleep to the sound of Baekhyun’s endless rambling and Yixing’s smitten chuckles. 

 

\-----

 

The forest is lush and green and lovely. Jongin walks ahead of him, his arm reached back to hold Kyungsoo’s hand securely as he guides him. Kyungsoo feels blissful, well-rested after his nap and elated to be in Jongin’s presence. Jongin’s palm is warm against his. He hopes he doesn't let go. 

 

He does, in fact, let go. Kyungsoo finds he doesn't mind. They step through low hanging branches into a beautiful clearing, complete with a trickling stream straight through the middle. It’s gorgeous. It’s peaceful. It’s shallow enough that the water is probably a perfect temperature. He so terribly wants to go for a swim. 

 

“I don't have swim trunks,” Kyungsoo says, disappointed. 

 

Jongin blinks back at him. “Neither do I. I usually just swim in my underwear, unless that makes you uncomfortable.”

 

Kyungsoo debates it. It’s brutally hot today, and he would love to go for a dip. He’s a considerably proper person, though. Always has been taught to be austere and modest. He trusts Jongin, however, and feels close enough to him that he doesn't entirely mind. So he shrugs, bringing hands up to work at the buttons on his collar. Jongin smiles his pretty little smile before tugging at his own clothes. 

 

Kyungsoo cannot look away. He’s consistently reprimanding himself for staring but his eyes are physically incapable of peeling away. Jongin is miles and miles of smooth, golden skin. Kyungsoo has never seen anything so beautiful. He watches Jongin’s skin as it retreats, disappearing under the surface of the river. Right. Swimming. That's what they came here to do. 

 

He’s quick to follow, skipping in behind the younger boy. Jongin dips his head under, coming back up and pushing his wet hair off his face. His skin literally glows when it’s covered in water, sparkling under the mid-afternoon sun. Kyungsoo dunks his head under, just to cool himself down. 

 

When he emerges, Jongin immediately splashes him, cackling as Kyungsoo sputters and coughs. They do this for hours. Splash and swim and laugh together. They dive under to see who can find the most interesting rock. They race from one riverbed to the next. The sun is starting to sink by the time they’re both breathless and sopping wet, plopping down on their backs along the shoreline, their feet still sitting in the water.

 

“Thank you for bringing me here, Jongin.”

 

Jongin reaches to his left, finding Kyungsoo’s hand and tangling their fingers together. “I’m glad I could share it with you. I usually come here alone, it was always my own little secret. But I like this better.”

 

Kyungsoo turns his head, blinking at Jongin. Jongin lies there with his eyes shut, a silly little smile etched in his lips, his skin sparkling with beads of water. Kyungsoo swallows around a lump in his throat. “Thank you for trusting me with your secret, then.”

 

Jongin hums. He rolls onto his side so he can face Kyungsoo entirely. With the sun setting behind him, the angular cast of light makes Jongin’s skin glow orange, his waist so small when he lays like that. “I trust you, Kyungsoo. You’ve given me no reason to feel otherwise.”

 

Neither of them say anything for a while. Kyungsoo lets his eyes drift shut, the sounds of the birds in the trees above them lulling him into a haze. Jongin’s hand is warm. Kyungsoo’s entire self is warm. He’s content, peaceful, in this quiet moment with Jongin. He finds he’s content and peaceful often when Jongin is involved.

 

“You know,” Jongin says, coaxing Kyungsoo’s eyes open, “I used to really love dance. I’d go to practice all black and blue from my father, but… it was my safe place.”

 

“Is this your new safe place?”

 

Jongin stares back at Kyungsoo, curiously, contemplatively. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

 

Kyungsoo’s voice is incapable of raising an octave over whispering. “What happened, Jongin? Why did you run?”

 

Jongin looks away from Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo misses the warmth of his gaze. He lets go of Kyungsoo’s hand, too, but Kyungsoo chases it, gripping it tighter. Jongin’s brow furrows, his lips pouting slightly.

 

“I’m afraid that if I tell you, it’ll change how you feel about me.”

 

Kyungsoo sits up, abruptly shuffling over so he’s crouched over Jongin. He looks the younger man directly in the eye, attempting to convey every ounce of seriousness he feels when he says, “Jongin, nothing you can say will make me like you any less.”

 

Jongin visibly surrenders, his expression softening. He tilts his head back, his neck wide open and considerably tempting. Kyungsoo sits down onto his bottom, crossing his legs underneath him as he sits over Jongin, waiting.

 

“My dad caught me kissing another boy from my ballet class. He nearly beat me to death.”

 

Out of all the things that could have possibly swirled around in Kyungsoo’s mind, this was not among them. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting Jongin’s story to be, but this was not one of them. Jongin kissing boys. It’s a concept Kyungsoo thinks he can get used to.

 

“So you…” Kyungsoo doesn’t have the right words. He isn’t entirely sure how he feels. Relieved? Excited? Curious? Anxious? A jumble of everything, it seems.

 

“Yes, Kyungsoo. I’m…” he sighs, laughing cynically as he says, “as my dad would say, a ‘fucking faggot’.”

 

Kyungsoo blinks once, twice. He feels terrible. Terrible that Jongin had been so mistreated. But at the same time, it all makes sense. It all falls together. What Sehun had said to him, why he was reading into Kyungsoo and Baekhyun, why it bothered him. All these little pieces that slot together. He’s full to bursting, though, with questions upon questions.

 

“Who knows?”

 

Jongin licks his lips. Kyungsoo’s eyes follow the motion. “You and Sehun.”

 

“Is Sehun…?”

 

Jongin swallows, his throat bobbing. “No.”

 

“Can I trust you with a secret?”

 

Jongin looks up at Kyungsoo, then. His eyes have softened, no longer flooded with fear of confrontation. “Of course.”

 

“This is between you and I. I don’t want to abuse my friends’ trust.”

 

“Yes, of course, Kyungsoo, what is it?”

 

Kyungsoo hesitates. He wrings his hands in his lap, head ducked down and avoiding Jongin’s eyes. Jongin remains lying on his back, one arm cocked back to rest his head against, the other dropping a hand on Kyungsoo’s knee. Suddenly, he feels very exposed, sitting there in his damp underwear. He’d forgotten about their state of dress the entire afternoon, having too much fun to notice. 

 

Jongin gives his knee a squeeze, a reassurance. Kyungsoo sighs. He trusts Jongin. He really does. 

 

“It’s about Baekhyun. And Yixing.”

 

Jongin starts properly laughing. Kyungsoo's gaze shoots up to watch his face. He looks utterly amused, his laughter so pure and pretty. 

 

“Please tell me they finally did something about their feelings for each other.”

 

Kyungsoo stares at Jongin, eyes wide. “How did you know?”

 

Jongin turns to Kyungsoo, his smile so gentle. The vibrant sunset above them makes his eyes glow like a flame. “I think it’s fairly obvious.”

 

Kyungsoo can't argue that, so he shrugs. The two of them sit in silence for a while. Jongin turns his head to watch the sunset, his hand stroking soft circles in the flesh just above Kyungsoo’s knee. Kyungsoo watches Jongin, he glances around the clearing, listens to the sounds of birds chirping, of life. As the sun sets, the air grows colder. Kyungsoo is starting to feel the beginnings of a chill in his bones. 

 

“Jongin,” he says, tentatively. 

 

The acrobat turns to him, looking somewhat sleepy. “Hmm?”

 

“What is it like to kiss a boy?”

 

The sleepiness in Jongin’s eyes immediately vanishes. He looks completely shell-shocked, surprised that Kyungsoo would ask such a thing. His mouth opens and closes, as if attempting to answer, but unable to find the right words. “I… I haven't kissed a girl. I can't make any comparisons for you.”

 

Kyungsoo nods solemnly. He turns around to watch the forest, the way the breeze invites the leaves to dance. Jongin is still staring at him, though, his gaze burning holes in Kyungsoo’s skin. 

 

“Did…” Jongin hesitates, audibly swallowing. “Did you want to try?”

 

A shiver crawls from the base of Kyungsoo’s spine to the nape of his neck. He’s certain it isn't the cooling air. He looks down at Jongin, doing his best to disguise the eagerness behind his eyes, the way his heart is racing. Jongin stares back, trying to keep his eyes steely. There’s an evident nervousness in him, however. It makes Kyungsoo feel a little better.

 

“Would you mind?” Kyungsoo asks, just for the sake of being polite. His voice feels terribly small, as if it’s hiding somewhere in his throat. 

 

Jongin takes a slow breath, chest rising and falling languidly. “No. Not at all.”

 

“Well, alright, then.”

 

“Alright.” 

 

Jongin sits up, his face suddenly very close to Kyungsoo. He reaches a hand to rest against the ground next to Kyungsoo’s opposite hip, leaning across so they're chest-to-chest. Kyungsoo can feel his breath sitting solid in the bottom of his lungs, refusing to release. Jongin’s breath is warm against his cold face. Kyungsoo can't believe how long his eyelashes are. 

 

When Jongin’s lips tentatively press against Kyungsoo’s, his breath finally breaks free from his lungs in the form of a sigh. Jongin is so gentle. Too gentle. He’s so timid, so nervous. Kyungsoo takes it upon himself to deepen it. 

 

He lifts a hand, threading his fingers through Jongin’s damp hair. The younger boy sighs against his mouth and Kyungsoo takes the opportunity to tilt Jongin’s head and press deeper. His lips are so soft, his breath heavy through his nose, and Kyungsoo begins moving his lips against him.

 

It’s incredible. Jongin is so compliant, allowing Kyungsoo to bite at his upper lip, suck gently on his lower. Jongin’s breath leaves him in quiet hums, the hand on the ground beneath them rising to Kyungsoo’s hip. Kyungsoo lets his free hand wander over Jongin’s torso, relishing in the way hard and straight lines feel beneath his palms. He thinks this is somehow better than the soft, curved lines of a woman, and his lips are certainly softer and sweeter than any girl he’s ever kissed. 

 

Kyungsoo’s grip in Jongin’s hair tightens, coaxing an open-mouthed moan from him. So Kyungsoo presses even further, licking at Jongin’s teeth. Jongin hums, both hands sliding up Kyungsoo’s waist, chest, neck, to cup his jaw. Kyungsoo’s heart is hammering, his stomach boiling, his skin tingling. He feels like he could devour Jongin if given the chance. 

 

Jongin pulls away. Kyungsoo whines. “I feel dizzy.” Jongin’s voice is nothing but a breathless whisper. 

 

“Me, too,” Kyungsoo says, eyelids droopy. He nudges at Jongin’s shoulders until the younger boy is flat on his back, Kyungsoo hovering over him. “We can't tip over if we’re laying down, right?”

 

Jongin giggles, tugging violently at Kyungsoo’s heart. His chest feels so tight. He needs to kiss some more. Jongin must feel the same way, as he’s quickly gripping the back of Kyungsoo’s neck and pulling him in for more. 

 

He loses track of time. Kyungsoo doesn't know how long they roll around on the shoreline, connected by their mouths, their fingertips. They're breathless and desperate, the sun long beyond the horizon. Kyungsoo feels hot all over. There’s no chance of them hiding how flushed and eager they are, as they're in nothing but their briefs. Kyungsoo ravishes Jongin’s mouth, drawing moans from the boy beneath him, pressing his hips down against Jongin’s crotch. 

 

Jongin groans, kisses getting distracted, limp, until he pushes at Kyungsoo’s chest. Kyungsoo pulls away, brow furrowed. Jongin looks beautiful like this. The grey light of twilight makes his blown out eyes look foggy, his lips are so swollen and slick. Kyungsoo doesn't know why they stopped kissing. 

 

“Soo,” it’s nothing but a release of breath, “I’m sorry.”

 

“Why are you sorry?” He ducks down to connect their mouths again, but Jongin turns his face away. 

 

“Kyungsoo, we should stop.” Jongin’s voice shakes despite how desperately he’s trying to sound sturdy, convincing. “This isn't the same thing to you as it is to me.”

 

Kyungsoo has no idea what that means. What he does know, however, is that Jongin asked him to stop. So, he does, rising up to sit back on his haunches, ignoring how tight his briefs feel, how tight Jongin’s look. Jongin looks hollow, an empty vessel, as he rises to his feet, going to where their clothes have been gathered in a pile all afternoon. 

 

“We’re dry enough, now,” Jongin says, tossing Kyungsoo’s pants in his direction. Then his shirt. “We should head back. We’ve probably missed dinner by now.”

 

Kyungsoo doesn't move for quite a while. Even as Jongin wiggles back into his clothes in the corner of Kyungsoo’s vision, he remains still, staring at the upturned dirt they were just lying on. It isn't until Jongin eventually calls Kyungsoo’s name that he snaps out of it, rising on shaky legs to dress. 

 

Jongin doesn't look nearly as shaken up as Kyungsoo feels. He waits for Kyungsoo to finish before they fall into step together, a silly little smile on Jongin’s mouth. He still looks somewhat kiss-drunk, but not nearly as hollow as he had moments ago. Kyungsoo is awfully confused. 

 

Jongin slaps him playfully on the back. “So you tried kissing a boy. How was it?”

 

Kyungsoo takes a moment, heat rising to his cheeks before he smiles crookedly at Jongin. “I think that's fairly obvious.”

 

Jongin giggles and Kyungsoo feels strangely like he’s falling. His feet remain below him, however, and his legs are much sturdier than they were minutes ago. He’s curious. He wonders how Jongin can remain so nonchalant after what had just happened. After Kyungsoo was just so willing to pull his ribs right open and share his entirety with Jongin. Jongin looks as though they'd just played a challenging round of chess, like he hadn't come out victorious but enjoyed the game, nonetheless. 

 

They did, indeed, miss dinner. When they part ways to head to their respective carriages, Kyungsoo fights every muscle in his body in order to keep himself from kissing Jongin good night. He’s afraid he’s already grown used to kissing him. Though he gets the feeling he won't be kissing him again any time soon. 

 

Baekhyun and Yixing are in the cart when Kyungsoo arrives, immediately pouncing on him with questions. He explains that he’d spent the evening at the river with Jongin. He doesn't supply any details. They don't pry. 

 

Yixing had evidently saved Kyungsoo a plate, and although it’s long gone cold, his growling stomach is endlessly grateful. He thanks them both before excusing himself to go shower after he’s fed and satisfied. They continue to murmur lowly to each other as he closes the bathroom door behind himself. 

 

His mind spins endlessly as he stands under the spray. The water never gets very hot, but lukewarm enough for it to not be too uncomfortable. He still feels blazing hot all over. He can still feel Jongin against him, simultaneously firm and soft. He can still hear Jongin’s breathless moans, his gasps, his content hums. He actually wishes it hadn't been so wonderful, because then perhaps it wouldn't linger as much as it is now. 

 

He’s hurt, for some reason. Jongin had wanted to stop while Kyungsoo was willing to plummet forward blindly. The rejection stings. But, mostly, it bothers him that he doesn't know why. 

 

_ “This isn't the same thing to you and it is to me.” _

 

What on earth did that mean? Does Jongin know how Kyungsoo feels? Kyungsoo has become remarkably fond of his friend. Kyungsoo wouldn't mind having with Jongin what Baekhyun has with Yixing. Perhaps Jongin knows this. That explains what it may mean. Jongin doesn't want the same from him. 

 

Jongin merely volunteered to be an experiment for Kyungsoo. Jongin hadn't asked Kyungsoo if he wanted to kiss him  _ all the time _ . He only asked if he wanted to try. And try, he did. 

 

When he emerges from the bathroom - clean but sallow - he finds an empty carriage. Baekhyun and Yixing must have gone to Yixing's cart for the night, as he has one all to himself. He sighs, climbing into bed and burying himself beneath the covers. Of all nights for Baekhyun to be absent, it had to be tonight. Kyungsoo could really use a warm body wrapped around him right now, humming soft encouragements to him until he feels content enough to fall asleep. 

 

Without it, however, Kyungsoo doesn't sleep a wink.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this was a little late! Don't hate me
> 
> last chapter will be here on friday!!!!

Kyungsoo does not drink, but he now sees the appeal. 

 

He’s never been drunk from alcohol. He’s been drunk, however, from soft lips against his, hesitant hands around his waist. He’s felt lightheaded and lopsided. He’s felt dizzy and delirious. It’s a wonderful feeling, and he understands why people keep going back for more and more and more until it’s a dependency they can't seem to shake. 

 

Kyungsoo, however, can't go back for more. 

 

Jongin has made his stand on their relationship very clear. Nothing much has changed, superficially. They still spend time together. They still enjoy each other’s company. They're still more fond of each other than anyone else in the circus. They don't discuss the kiss again. And Kyungsoo can't stop staring at his lips. 

 

Kyungsoo finds himself craving Jongin. It’s eating him from the inside out. Occasionally, he starts to lean in, only for Jongin to clear his throat or turn away or change the subject. It always leaves Kyungsoo blinking, blurry, like he'd forgotten where he is for a moment. The remainder of his summer is spent longing for something he cannot have. It’s right there at arm’s reach, but it won't come any closer.

 

“Soo,” Baekhyun says. “Are you listening?”

 

“Pardon?” Kyungsoo blinks, realizing his forkful is frozen somewhere between his plate and his mouth. “Oh, yes.”

 

Baekhyun sighs. “No, you aren't. This is important.”

 

Kyungsoo brings the forkful to his lips, chewing languidly. “Alright,” he says once he’s swallowed, “continue.”

 

“I was saying that it’s getting to the point of the year that everyone starts getting sick.”

 

Kyungsoo hums. He was informed that no one in this circus have homes to return to once the season is over, and that the train continues to travel up and down the country. The power and the heat in the entire train doesn't work unless it continues running, burning coal. It makes sense to Kyungsoo that colds and flus start spreading in the autumn and winter months. This train is a poor protection from the weather outside. Everyone lives in such close quarters. It’s impossible to remain healthy when four of your roommates are coughing and sneezing through the night. 

 

“Do you by chance have an idea?” Kyungsoo quirks an eyebrow at Baek. Baek chews on his bottom lip, thinking. 

 

“I say the next city we stop in we head to a pharmacy. Stock up.”

 

They won't arrive in the next city for another two days. “Of course, Baekhyun. Did you want to come with me?”

 

Baek shrugs. “I could if you'd like some help.”

 

Kyungsoo nods. They eat in silence for a little while, the little group of them. Baekhyun, as usual, begins talking again. 

 

“Where’s Jonginnie?” 

 

“He’s been in bed all day. The damp weather has already found its first victim,” Kyungsoo answers. 

 

Chanyeol chuckles. “Typical Jongin. He’s always the first to get sick, every year.”

 

Kyungsoo really shouldn't find that so endearing. 

 

“He hates it, because he always misses the last one or two shows.” Amber is finishing up her plate. “I've never seen someone who loves performing as much as that kid.”

 

Kyungsoo feels saddened at the mention of the last shows. There are only two cities left in the season and Kyungsoo is already feeling awfully nostalgic. He’s grieving the end of the summer. This has been nothing but a wonderful experience for him. He knows it’ll only continue, that next spring will roll around, along with the first stop of the season. But something about his first experience as a carnie coming to an end… it’s sentimental.

 

“Did you guys know he used to dance?” Kyungsoo says. His friends all lift their eyebrows at him in curiosity. Apparently they didn't. “I’ve never seen him dance. Though I’m sure he was wonderful.”

 

“Oh, no doubt,” Baekhyun says with that god awful tone. Kyungsoo hates when he speaks in his fortune teller voice. “But don't you find everything Jongin does wonderful?”

 

Kyungsoo doesn't give him the satisfaction of being peeved. “You're right.”

 

They continue to tease him and laugh for a bit. At least until Yixing wanders into the dining cart and Baekhyun practically trips over himself scrambling out of his seat. The two of them have done a terrible job hiding their secret relationship. They're insurmountably clingy and affectionate with each other. It seems to be a taboo topic amongst the entire circus. No one brings it up. No one wants to have that conversation. 

 

Kyungsoo sighs, thinking of all the work that needs to be done today. It’s the rainy part of autumn, which means the cheap paint on everything is fading remarkably quickly. Which, of course, means everyone is constantly repainting and resurfacing their stations and props. Kyungsoo promised to help Ten - the young and handsome clown with the bright smile - paint all the bleachers, as well as his own stuff with Chanyeol. He’s dreading it.

 

It’s late into the afternoon when Jongin finally emerges from bed. Fortunately, it’s a lovely day out - though a bit chilly - so Kyungsoo isn't entirely grumpy from all the laboursome work. The train stopped in a large clearing to allow the workers to do the repairs and repaints for the day, since it’s far too much work to do while also needing to set up the tent. Kyungsoo is just finishing staining a row of bleachers when he spots Jongin emerging from his carriage. He looks terribly tired. Kyungsoo pities him. 

 

Kyungsoo lifts his hand in a brief wave to Jongin as the younger makes his way across the field. He’s walking incredibly languidly, a slump in his shoulders. He looks ghastly pale, even from so far away. Kyungsoo’s heart sinks for him. 

 

He puts down his brush and can of paint, deciding to meet Jongin halfway. “You should be in bed, my friend,” he calls out to him. “Look at you, you poor thing.”

 

Jongin’s smile is small. His hair is greasy at the roots, his eyes puffy with sleep. Then he collapses. 

 

“Nini!” Kyungsoo cries, running to Jongin’s limp body. He looks so tiny, despite his height, curled up against the green grass. Kyungsoo crouches over Jongin, now close enough to see the sheen of sweat coating the younger’s flesh. He’s so pale, so flaccid, Kyungsoo feels his heart jump into his throat. He rests a palm against Jongin’s damp skin. “Jesus, Jongin, you're on fire!”

 

“‘M so cold,” the younger mumbles. He is shivering, despite the heat utterly pouring from his pores. 

 

“Jongin, why did you even try getting out of bed?”

 

“Missed you.”

 

Kyungsoo sighs, wrapping fingers around the acrobat’s biceps to help him up. Jongin moans and groans, shivering under Kyungsoo’s fingertips as he slowly sits up. Another press to Jongin’s forehead. His eyes are bloodshot, his skin practically boiling, his lips drained of colour. Kyungsoo furrows his brow. 

 

“Jongin, your fever is insanely high. Come on, let’s cool you off.” He attempts to help Jongin to his feet, but the man is too weak, a dead weight against Kyungsoo’s small frame. “Ten!” Kyungsoo calls to the nearest person. “I need your help!”

 

The young man, ever polite and helpful, immediately drops what he’s doing and rushes to their side. Kyungsoo’s mind stirs, brewing over something that feels like panic. This is no ordinary cold or flu. His best friend, the man he  _ loves  _ is absolute putty in their arms, weak and sweating and falling to bits. 

 

They are two days away from a pharmacy. They are two days away from medication.

 

By the time they reach the entrance to Kyungsoo’s carriage, they've caught the attention of others. Chanyeol is there, as well as Minho, and they're helping lift Jongin into the cart. Baekhyun and Yixing are inside, watching on with furrowed brows and wide eyes. 

 

“What do we do?” Kyungsoo hears Ten say. 

 

“We need to get his fever down before he burns out.” Kyungsoo glances at Jongin. He looks so pathetic. His breath leaves him in tiny wheezes. “Go to the kitchen and get ice. Lots of it.” 

 

Ten nods, scrambling away and recruiting Chanyeol and Minho to get as many hands as possible. Baekhyun and Yixing take over helping Jongin to the bathroom, Baekhyun immediately starting to fill the bathtub with cold water. 

 

“What the hell is wrong with him?” The fortune teller is asking, helping the other two shed Jongin of his clothes. “This is the worst cold I’ve ever seen.”

 

Kyungsoo shakes his head. He’s remained remarkably composed, considering how frantic he feels about saving Jongin. 

 

“This is no cold,” Kyungsoo says. Jongin is finally down to just his underwear, he and Yixing helping him lift his feet over the edge of the tub. The cold water is only filled halfway, as the ice is on its way. Jongin’s entire body quakes at the cold against his hot skin. “With a fever this aggressive, I’m thinking it’s an infection of sorts. And a bad one, since his body is working so hard to kill it off.”

 

Baekhyun blinks at him. The boys return with the ice and Yixing rushes to help them open the bags and pour them into the tub. 

 

Kyungsoo says, “It means we’ll need antibiotics. Chanyeol, can you grab my first aid box from under the bed?”

 

The magician does as he’s asked, looking flustered and excitable. He notices that everyone in the room looks petrified, even the perpetually composed Yixing. Kyungsoo gives himself another metaphorical pat on the back for keeping it together. 

 

Once his modest supply of equipment is within reach, Kyungsoo grabs his stethoscope. Baekhyun found a rag, soaking it in the ice water before pressing it to Jongin’s forehead. Kyungsoo smiles to himself. Baekhyun seems the caretaking type. He should be a nurse. 

 

Kyungsoo coaxes Jongin to sit a bit straighter up. He presses the end of the stethoscope to the back of the acrobats ribs. He listens. 

 

“Deep breath, Nini.”

 

For a deep breath, it’s incredibly shallow. It’s also flooded with something besides air. Pneumonia? Not enough of a gurgle. Tuberculosis? The climate isn't bad enough for it. He listens around some more, gets Jongin to continue to breathe heavily. He thinks and thinks and thinks. 

 

“It’s fungal.”

 

“What?” Yixing asks. 

 

“I need you to check his carriage for environmental causes. It’s most likely mold. It’s been awfully rainy, as of late.”

 

Yixing sends Minho and Chanyeol off immediately. Yixing, Baekhyun, and Ten remain, staring at Kyungsoo expectantly. 

 

“We need medicine as soon as possible.” Yixing is nodding as Kyungsoo speaks. “I need you to tell the conductor that we need to reach our next city quickly. No stopping every two hours. Get the crew to pack everything up and then we need to head out.”

 

“Absolutely.” And Yixing is off. 

 

“Ten,” Kyungsoo says. “Ask Yixing’s mother to make tons of ice. We’ll need to refresh the water every few hours.”

 

Just Kyungsoo, Baekhyun, and Jongin remain. Baekhyun is wringing out the rag again, pressing it gently to Jongin’s forehead. The youngest looks so pitiful, shivering shoulders and shaking lips, eyes closed, skin drained of colour. Kyungsoo’s heart sinks to his stomach. He reaches a hand into the offensively cold water, finding Jongin’s. 

 

“How are you feeling, Jongin?” He asks with a gentle voice. 

 

“Quite awful.”

 

Kyungsoo releases a little chuckle. He’s grateful that the fever is subdued, at least for the time being. Jongin’s body seems to be relaxing, despite the cold. Unfortunately, his wheeze remains. It’ll soon be a wicked cough. 

 

“You should sleep.”

 

“‘S too cold,” Jongin mumbles. His eyelids look remarkably heavy, however. 

 

Kyungsoo chuckles, timid fingers pushing Jongin’s damp bangs off his forehead. “Just go to sleep, Jongin.”

 

Baekhyun decides he should go help pack everything up. Kyungsoo agrees. The sooner they head out, the better. Jongin is quickly plummeting into a fitful sleep. His skin is turning pink where it’s soaking in the freezing water. His fever has gone down considerably. Kyungsoo still remains by his side. 

 

\-----

 

They arrive at the next city in just a little over a day. Kyungsoo is eternally grateful for everyone’s diligence. Despite their best efforts, however, Jongin’s body is wracked with a brutal cough. It physically hurts Kyungsoo to see him like this. 

 

They did, in fact, find mold in the carriage. All acrobats have been distributed into other carriages. A large group of men from the circus all volunteered to help clean and repair the damage from the mold. Yixing’s mother is endlessly helpful with supplying ice and herbal remedy teas. Because of Jongin’s compromised immune system, the only one allowed inside this bathroom is Kyungsoo. He keeps a mask over his mouth and nose. He feeds Jongin antibiotics and cough syrup and green tea. He refreshes the ice water. He watches while Jongin sleeps. 

 

He’s flipping through his book, not actually reading. His mind has been considerably absent, this past day. He’s fretting over nothing, knowing this infection is quickly going to disappear, but he can't help it. It’s worrisome, the way Jongin’s chest rises and falls so laboursome. The way the younger shakes and wobbles when Kyungsoo helps him out of the tub to go to the washroom. The way the acrobat rejects every bite of food the two of them try to force into his stomach. 

 

Jongin moans and Kyungsoo immediately closes his book. Jongin is looking at Kyungsoo with a sleepy smile, a hand rising from the water to reach out toward Kyungsoo. The elder leans forward in his chair situated next to the tub, grabbing Jongin’s hand with one of his own, the other pushing his bangs off his forehead for the umpteenth time. 

 

“Your fever has really plummeted. It’s almost time to get you out of the tub and into a bed.”

 

“Thank god.”

 

Kyungsoo laughs. Jongin lays there, looking somewhere between asleep and awake. It could be partially the fever exhaustion, or the cough syrup, or the fact that he hasn't eaten in over a day, but he looks absent. As if he’s floating through space. He’s extremely adorable. It’s rather unfortunate. 

 

He erupts into a fit of coughing. Kyungsoo keeps a soothing hand on Jongin’s back as he wracks and shakes and coughs. It’s phlegmy and dry all at once. Kyungsoo grabs the green tea he'd brewed a little while ago. It’s lukewarm by now, but it'll surely soothe Jongin’s throat. 

 

He eventually settles down, gulping down the tea gratefully. The boy looks positively spent, exhaustion practically seeping from his pores. Kyungsoo greatly pities him. 

 

“You alright?”

 

“Starving.” His voice is wrecked, raw.

 

Kyungsoo smiles, though Jongin can't see it through the mask. “I’ll get you something to eat, soon. I’d rather wait here in case you break out into coughs again.”

 

Jongin’s face melts into a dreamy little smirk. His head rests against the edge of the tub, his hair damp around his temples, his eyes foggy. He looks as beautiful as ever and it’s driving Kyungsoo insane. He wishes Jongin could at least go a second without being breathtaking. 

 

A hand rises from beneath the cold water, reaching out toward Kyungsoo. Fingertips press to the front of Kyungsoo’s mask, settling there and refusing to move. 

 

“I can't see your mouth,” Jongin says, voice slurred and groggy. “I like your mouth. Looks like a heart.”

 

Kyungsoo laughs, removing the hand from his face and patting it fondly. Jongin is being silly. 

 

“I miss kissing it.”

 

Kyungsoo’s eyes widen. Jongin’s brow furrows, realizing what he’d said. His mouth opens and closes as he fights with the words in his mind, deciding which ones taste best on his tongue. 

 

“I’m sorry, I didn't mean-”

 

“Jongin.”

 

The younger looks irreparably guilty. He looks down at the surface of the water, lips pouting a tiny bit. Oh, does Kyungsoo miss kissing him, too. This isn't exactly the best state to be having this conversation, however. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Jongin mutters. 

 

“Don't be.” Kyungsoo sighs. “Get some more rest, eat some food, move from the bath to a bed. We’ll have this conversation when we’re both in our right minds.”

 

Jongin nods, still avoiding Kyungsoo’s gaze. Kyungsoo wishes he could tell him right now that he has nothing to worry about. Kyungsoo, himself, has a fluttering chest and a twisting tummy and he’s ecstatic. But he can't be sure. Jongin is a tad loopy, right now. The things he says right now can't necessarily be trusted. 

 

\-----

 

“How is he?” Kyungsoo asks Baekhyun. Performances are starting back up today, so Kyungsoo was busy helping set up. He left Baekhyun with Jongin, as Baek is a good caretaker, and doesn't require much setting up. 

 

“He’s much better. He’s awake, now, just napped for a couple hours.” Baekhyun gives him a slap on the back. “He’ll be fine tonight while we’re busy.” 

 

Then Baekhyun is off, sauntering away to head to his station or find Yixing or whatever. Kyungsoo takes a deep breath. He clutches the bowl of soup in his hands closer to his chest, as if that could provide any sort of protection. Then, he’s stepping through the door. 

 

They had set Jongin up in Yixing’s carriage, as it’s a single room with just one bed, nice and secluded. Baekhyun found it a delightful opportunity for Yixing to share his bed. The boy is ridiculous. 

 

“Hey, Jongin,” Kyungsoo says as he wanders in. Jongin blinks up at him. “Here’s some soup, I thought you might be getting hungry.”

 

“Thanks.” Jongin sits up, takes the bowl. 

 

Kyungsoo continues to wander about the room, explaining things to Jongin. He tells him his medications are right here, that if he feels really terrible when no one is around to take some of the acetaminophen to calm his fever. He points out the cough syrup. He fluffs up Jongin’s pillow. He-

 

“Kyungsoo.” Jongin’s voice is entirely serious. He’s looking considerably better. His fever is still present but much less aggressive. His hair is cleaner, as he’d survived a shower this morning. “Stop stalling.”

 

Kyungsoo looks down at his feet. “Okay.”

 

“Listen, what I said,” Jongin says as Kyungsoo seats himself on the edge of the bed, “it was silly of me. Please don't read into it.”

 

Kyungsoo purses his lips, thinking. “Did you mean it, though?”

 

Jongin blinks at him with wide, honey eyes. The antibiotics are doing a number on him, as he’s already looking more like his normal self. “Yes… I did.”

 

“Good,” Kyungsoo mutters, suddenly unable to hold eye contact. He looks down at his hands in his lap, his fiddling fingers. Jongin is extremely silent, next to him. 

 

“Good?”

 

“I miss kissing you too, Jongin.” Kyungsoo sighs, pushing fingers through his hair. “I’ve missed kissing you since you pushed me off that night.”

 

Jongin actually  _ laughs _ . Kyungsoo reckons it to be the fever, or the cough syrup, or anything, really. But Jongin actually laughs, like he hasn't heard anything so delightful in his life. Kyungsoo turns to look at him, which is a terrible mistake. Even pale and fever-stricken, Jongin’s laugh is a beautiful thing. 

 

“Kyungsoo, I was so worried I ruined everything,” Jongin says with a grin, rubbing the heel of his hand into his eye. “I liked you so much, and I just… assumed you wouldn't like me, because you're… you're not-”

 

“Well, that’s not entirely set in stone.” Kyungsoo smiles. 

 

Jongin sighs dreamily, sipping at his soup. He stares off into nothing as he thinks and thinks. Kyungsoo watches him, admires him. He’s so pretty. It’s unfair. 

 

“Jongin.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I love you, you know.”

 

Jongin’s hand, carrying a spoonful of soup, freezes halfway to his mouth. He blinks up at Kyungsoo. Despite the lack of colour in his skin, his cheeks actually flush. Kyungsoo can't help but giggle. 

 

“Say that again,” Jongin says. 

 

Kyungsoo laughs. Jongin watches his mouth, surely enjoying the heart shaped grin. “I love you, Jongin. I have for quite some time, now.”

 

Jongin’s smile is so beautiful and so soft. He’s an expensive cashmere sweater in a variety of colours. He’s a voluminous, fluffy cloud on a beautiful July day. “I love you, too.”

 

Kyungsoo beams. Jongin smiles back. Kyungsoo really, really wants to kiss Jongin right now, but he knows it's probably not the best idea, for either of their health. Jongin’s hands grip tighter around his bowl of soup. Kyungsoo reaches forward to brush his fingers through Jongin’s hair. 

 

“Hurry up and get better so I can kiss you,” Kyungsoo says. Jongin laughs. 

 

And get better, he does. It takes a few more days before Jongin is independent on his feet again, even if just for brief periods of time. Kyungsoo sticks by him throughout the entire healing process. They take every opportunity possible to tell each other they love each other. Baekhyun overheard one day and shouted ecstatically at them for a good ten minutes. Jongin’s skin returns to his regular golden colour. Jongin regains a spring in his step, though still a tad small at this point. He has some healing to do, but he is much, much better. 

 

It’s a week later, that Jongin makes a stupid decision. 

 

“I’m ready to perform, tonight.”

 

Kyungsoo whips his gaze over to where Jongin stands, debating taking a seat in front of a vanity mirror. Kyungsoo continues buttoning his performance costume, watching Jongin with furrowed brows. 

 

“You're not well enough, Jongin.”

 

“It’s the last city. I don't want to miss this.”

 

Jongin is usually very soft and reasonable. The only time he’s ever stubborn, is when it involves performing. He takes a seat in front of the mirror, immediately beginning to apply his performance makeup. He looks awfully pleased with himself. 

 

“Jongin, no. You aren't strong enough, yet.”

 

“I’m  _ fine _ , Kyungsoo.”

 

They argue like this for the next hour. A few others join in on the argument, advising Jongin to sit this one out. Jongin, however, doesn't budge. He continues to tell everyone that he’ll be just fine, he’s been doing this for years, he knows the trapeze like the back of his hand. 

 

They have a moment alone before Kyungsoo has to head off for his performance with Chanyeol. 

 

“You’re making a mistake.”

 

Jongin grabs Kyungsoo’s shoulders, pulling him in for a warm kiss. Kyungsoo loves Jongin’s lips. He loves all of Jongin, but those lips. They're perfect. 

 

Jongin pulls off, looking straight into Kyungsoo’s eyes. “I’m fine.”

 

And then he’s walking away. Kyungsoo has no choice but to head to his stage. His chest feels extremely tight. His head kind of hurts. 

 

He somehow manages to get through his performance. He’s incredibly distracted, just going through the motions. His mind is stuck on Jongin. He’s worried about him. He knows Jongin is incredibly talented, and more than capable of doing this routine, but it’s still so soon. Jongin is still a bit weak, and flying and flipping from all the way up there is a disaster in the making. His equilibrium will be so off-balance. Kyungsoo just prays to a god he doesn't believe in that Jongin can pull this off. 

 

The acrobats are just being introduced by the time Kyungsoo has a chance to rush over to watch from behind the bleachers. They're just as stunning as he remembers, all graceful and elegant lines. Their bodies do impossible things. Jongin looks so ethereal flying above their heads like that. 

 

Kyungsoo’s jaw clenches. He’s so,  _ so  _ high up. 

 

He’s going about the routine considerably flawless, however. Jongin was right. He’s been doing this for years, his body just  _ knows  _ how to do it. Except, nearing the crescendo of the music, Jongin makes a flip, reaching for the other trapeze. His fingers don't quite reach. 

 

And he’s falling. 

  
  



	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAHHH THIS IS IT!! the final chapter! i feel a little sad about seeing this fic go, as I've been writing it for ages (even tho i only started posting like 4 weeks ago) but sometimes u just have to let things go...remind them to call you....hope they come home for the holidays
> 
> thank u for reading by the way :)

Chaos. It’s absolute chaos. 

 

The moment Jongin hits the safety net - which really isn't  _ much  _ of a protection, he did reach the ground after all - the entire tent erupts into a fit of madness. People are screaming and children are crying. The other acrobats are in complete shock, a few of them quickly rushing to his aid. Kyungsoo is immediately on his toes, sprinting as fast as he can toward the boy he loves. 

 

The closer he gets, the more he hears him. The entire circus is an array of noise - yelling, crying, screaming, anything - but Jongin is the loudest of them all. It’s a sound that crawls into Kyungsoo's skin and leaves a chill down his spine. He sounds like there is nothing in the world to him besides pain. Kyungsoo wants to throw up. 

 

He has a hard time pushing through the crowd that’s begun to build around the acrobat. He has to shout to those around him that he’s a doctor in order for them to let him through. It’s a fight of shoulders and elbows but he does emerge victorious, only to wish he hadn't. 

 

Jongin looks like he would much rather be dead right now. 

 

“Jongin, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” he’s muttering mindlessly, fingers skirting all over Jongin’s damaged body. He fights the urge to kiss his tear-stained face. They're in public. 

 

He assesses the damage with gentle fingers and a focused gaze. Dislocated shoulder. Possibly a few cracked ribs. A concussion, for sure, if his eyes are any tell. A broken wrist and possibly a fractured tibia. There’s no way to know for sure, unless proper diagnostic tests are run. 

 

“Did anyone call for an emergency?” He shouts at the crowd hovering over them. He gets a few assurances in response and deems that enough. 

 

What’s causing Jongin the most agony, right now, is most likely his shoulder. The broken bones are surely painful but his body has most likely pumped enough adrenaline for the most damaged areas to go into shock, at this point. The broken bones aren't something Kyungsoo can fix right now, but the shoulder? That, he can do. 

 

“Nini,” he says as kindly as possible. Jongin blinks at him with soaking wet eyes. “This is going to really hurt for a second, okay? Hold Sehun’s hand.”

 

Sehun is immediately there to reach out a hand for Jongin to take. Jongin squeezes. 

 

With meticulous hands, Kyungsoo pushes the shoulder back into its socket. Not without putting Jongin through absolute misery, however. Sehun even whimpers at the squeeze Jongin gives his hand. Jongin shouts before nearly passing out from the pain. 

 

“No, no, Jongin!” Kyungsoo presses his hands to Jongin’s cheeks. “Don't fall asleep on me, you have a concussion!”

 

Jongin nods. Whimpers. Cries a little more. 

 

“Help is on its way, okay?”

 

“I should have listened,” Jongin whispers. Kyungsoo can't hear it amongst the ruckus, but he can read his lips. 

 

He should have. But Kyungsoo also should have tried harder to stop him. He’s irreparably soft for Jongin, and it’s a terrible habit of his to just  _ give _ Jongin whatever he wishes. Kyungsoo should have forced him to sit this one out. Kyungsoo should have sat out his own performance to make sure Jongin doesn't leave his bed. Kyungsoo should have goddamn  _ tied  _ the kid to his bed, for Christ’s sake. 

 

Kyungsoo is vaguely aware of Yixing somewhere beyond the crowd, attempting to get people to settle down. He can only imagine what he’s going through. His entire circus is in disarray, madness. Yixing is meticulous and careful. It’s probably incredibly overwhelming to see everything become so… messy. 

 

Kyungsoo sits with Jongin until help comes. By the time the emergency services arrive, the crowd has mostly dissipated. Yixing did an incredible job settling the crowd down and leading them outside, with the help of Junmyeon, Jinki, and Amber. Baekhyun stopped by briefly to rub a soothing hand across the backs of Kyungsoo’s shoulders, ask how Jongin’s doing - to which he got a pathetic whimper in reply - and then head off to help pack things up. Jongin holds Kyungsoo’s hand like it’s the only thing keeping him from floating off into heaven, or space, or whatever Jongin believed in. 

 

The paramedics are quick in action, having Jongin on a stretcher and pumped with intravenous fluids before Kyungsoo can even process what’s happening. He asks if he can come in the ambulance with them. They apologize and inform him he cannot. No one in this circus owns a vehicle. It looks like he’ll have to walk. 

 

The night is a bitter cold. It’s early October, meaning the minute the sun is past the horizon, so is any semblance of warmth. He has a scarf wrapped snug around his mouth and ears. His hands are in the pockets of a coat he borrowed from Baekhyun. It isn't in the best of shape, but it's warm enough. Baekhyun had offered to accompany him, but soon realized Yixing really needed him within the chaos back at camp. Kyungsoo doesn't mind taking this walk alone, anyway. 

 

Kyungsoo genuinely thought watching Jongin practically cough out his lungs was the most terrifying moment of his life. It turns out, watching him plummet from countless metres up was a lot worse. This has been an awful week or so for Kyungsoo. And Jongin. One near-death experience to the next. 

 

He chuckles to himself at the idea that it’s him causing all this distress unto Jongin. As if he’s somehow jinxed him. Perhaps the local psychic, Baekhyun, can fix it.

 

The thought is humorous enough to have Kyungsoo in considerably good spirits, despite his worry. He walks quickly, because of the cold, and is soon arriving at the entrance of the hospital. He inquires at the front desk about him. The receptionist flips through paperwork until she finds what she’s looking for. She leads him down the hallway. 

 

Jongin is asleep when he steps into the room. There’s a radio on the windowsill, humming out a pretty song on the piano. Kyungsoo doesn't recognize the song or artist. He realizes he’s been somewhat off the grid for the better part of a year. He doesn't regret it one bit. 

 

The doctor explains everything to him in a hush, in order to not wake Jongin. Kyungsoo informs him that he’s mostly qualified and can understand the terminology, so the doctor doesn't bother putting it in simple terms. Kyungsoo was right about the breaks and fractures. There’s some internal bleeding in his hypochondriac region. They're doing their best to drain it and put it back in his system. His concussion is surprisingly minor, as his body took more of a hit than his head. He needs to rest. He’s in a lot of pain. 

 

The doctor departs and Kyungsoo thanks him. He settles himself down in the chair next to the bed. It’s modest. It isn't the most funded hospital. This town is relatively small. Somehow, it makes Kyungsoo feel better. Small towns mean more caring people. Jongin will only receive the warmest treatment. 

 

He takes Jongin’s hand. It’s more of a comfort to himself than anything, as the younger is asleep. Kyungsoo watches him for a while. His eyelashes brush against the tops of his cheeks. There’s a bruise blossoming on his right cheekbone. That's the same side as the dislocated shoulder and the broken wrist. Presumably the side that took most of the impact. He looks terribly small, fragile, laying there in the low light of the modest table lamp. The yellow light makes his skin gleam bronze. Kyungsoo has truly never seen anything so fragile, delicate, valuable in his life. 

 

Kyungsoo begins to feel extremely sentimental. This year has brought so much upon him. Firsts in every way. He’s experienced things his dull life back at home could never supply. He feels strange calling the university, the apartment home. He realizes, then, that the circus has entirely become his home. 

 

It was over a year ago that he met Baekhyun for the first time - though, at the time, he was the Fantastic Mr. Byun. Baekhyun had read him undeniably well. He had told Kyungsoo things that Kyungsoo couldn't admit to himself. He was looking for purpose. He was looking for romance, in every sense of the word. 

 

Romance in the beauty of vibrant green meadows when they stopped for break. Romance in the beautiful animals with undismissable personalities who love and cherish their respective trainers. Romance in pretty little rivers on a summer evening. Romance in the stars when there’s no light pollution. Romance in making interesting and loving friends. Romance in long limbs and a gentle smile. 

 

If Kyungsoo had never decided to leave everything behind he would have never found Baekhyun and his loud storytelling and twinkling eyes. He would have never found Chanyeol and his perpetual warmth and genuine laughter. He would have never found Amber and her confidence and strength. He would have never found Yixing and his gentle power and sincerity. 

 

He would have never found Jongin. Jongin and his honey coated gaze and honey flavoured lips. Jongin and his warm and soft skin tinged golden from sunlight and the absolute gold coursing through his veins. Jongin and his pretty little laugh and kind words and flushed cheeks. Kyungsoo was greatly missing out, he realizes. He’s glad he gets to have it all now. 

 

Most importantly, however, he would have never found himself. He’s lived a long life of wondering why he found women beautiful, but the way a painting or a sunset or a flower is beautiful. Objective, physical, merely visual. He’s gone a long time courting women only to break their hearts, because he couldn't find it in himself to care. He could never care about a woman the way he cares about Jongin. The way he wants to remain by his side always, kiss him good night, good morning, and every moment in between. 

 

It’s overwhelming. Finally knowing what love feels like. 

 

He sits there until the sun rises from the horizon and kisses the sky good morning. He admires the way the sky blushes in return, a beautiful pink encasing the world around him in warmth. The blush in the sky greatly rivals the blush in Jongin’s cheeks when Kyungsoo stares at him for too long. Jongin still wins, though. He beats every beautiful thing the world may create. 

 

When Jongin’s eyes begin to flutter open, the first thing he does is gently squeeze Kyungsoo’s hand. Then he groans, undeniably in an excessive amount of pain and discomfort. His eyes look soft, though. Tender and a little sad. 

 

Because even though Jongin will heal, he will never be able to perform again. 

 

“You’ll be okay,” Kyungsoo whispers. He isn't entirely sure whether he’s referring to the broken bones, or his inability to ever swing from a trapeze again. With his damaged tibia, as well, he’ll never be able to dance again. Not as long and easily as he would like to, at least. Kyungsoo’s heart breaks for him. He knows that Jongin’s true passion is performing. Jongin loves to move his body in ways that entrance everyone watching. His body will not allow him to do that, anymore. 

 

This all seems to hit Jongin, as well. A single tear rolls down his cheek. Kyungsoo bites his lip, worried brows furrowing. He reaches forward to gently wipe the tear from his hot skin. He knows he can bring no comfort to Jongin. He knows that nothing he says will fix this. He just has to be there to hold his hand while Jongin grieves. 

 

“I’ll go get the nurse. You could use some breakfast.”

 

They're alone in this hospital room. It’s private and secluded and safe. So Kyungsoo leans in, pressing tender lips to Jongin’s. Jongin hums in response, kissing back groggily. 

 

“I love you, Jongin. We can get through this.”

 

And then he’s off to find the nurse. He truly believes what he said. He hopes Jongin does, as well. 

 

\-----

 

“Ready to go, dear?” Jongin calls from the door. Kyungsoo finishes wiping the counter, locking the till and putting the key in his pocket. He smiles up at his partner - in both business and life - before nodding and switching off the lights. Jongin takes the opportunity, a moment of privacy, to wrap an arm around Kyungsoo’s waist and kiss his temple. 

 

It’s been a funny year for them. After Jongin had finally healed, it was a long and strenuous departure from the travelling circus that tasted bittersweet on both their tongues. Many tears shed, many long hugs, many promises to write to each other as much as possible. Kyungsoo still gets wistful, thinking of what he could be doing, if he hadn't decided to follow Jongin, but he’s unbelievably happy right where he is. He wouldn't trade it for the world. 

 

They moved to Jongin’s favourite city. The one with the little river. It’s quickly become Kyungsoo’s favourite city, too. They bought out a little shop building with an apartment above the store with the money Kyungsoo’s father had made on the old apartment. It was strange, having to restart, yet again. But the bookstore the two of them opened together has become a success. They keep themselves busy running it. It makes enough money to pay for Jongin’s lessons at the local dance studio. 

 

Not that he needs lessons. It’s essentially a place for Jongin to do what he loves for a couple hours a few days a week. Kyungsoo loves what dance does to Jongin. On his designated Ballet Days, Jongin is in brighter spirits. He comes back from his classes with a slight limp in his step but a sparkle in his eye. It only makes Kyungsoo fall more and more in love with him. 

 

Opening the shop together was an incredibly smart move. They're able to tell others that they're partners, and people just assume they mean in business. Which, they do, in a sense. No one questions their living situation, the two bedroom apartment right above their store. Convenience, is all it is. No one is to know that the second bedroom goes untouched.

 

Friends and family visit. Never Jongin’s family, however. Kyungsoo’s father has apparent disappointment for Kyungsoo’s decision not to pursue medicine. He commends his success in business, however. Jongdae and Minseok have come to visit a few times. If they notice the undisturbed state of the second bedroom, neither of them mention it. 

 

Kyungsoo has a place to call home with Jongin. Kyungsoo goes home to the love of his life. Kyungsoo has experienced plenty in his short life, all of it in a span of two years. 

 

They both miss the circus greatly, despite the fact that their friends regularly write to them, and vice versa. Especially Baekhyun. That’s really no surprise. The man would talk endlessly, if he didn't have to breathe or eat or sleep. Imagine how much he can say with a pen and paper. Many things have developed in Baekhyun Land. Including a small, unofficial ceremony he and Yixing had. The rest of the circus have been remarkably supportive, apparently, with the exception of a few who had decided to leave. 

 

Jongin and Kyungsoo walk together through the streets of their little town. Kyungsoo loves it here. It’s large enough to be private, small enough to be personal. Everyone knows their neighbours. Most businesses are small and family-owned. It’s so full of life and warmth. And, of course, the river. His and Jongin's little secret. 

 

It’s a beautiful evening in the middle of summer. The air is warm against his skin. Jongin is at his most tanned, this time of year. Kyungsoo thinks back on where they were this time last year. Lying on the shore of that little river, experiencing each other’s lips for the first time. They've certainly come a long way. Considering that, now, Kyungsoo has Jongin’s lips at his convenience. He likes it this way. 

 

He feels an intense wave of nostalgia at the red and white striped tent rising from the horizon, the closer they get. He glances over at Jongin, who has a giddy smile on his lips and a whimsical glint in his eye. Kyungsoo tends to forget that Jongin spent nearly a decade in this circus. He must miss it much more than Kyungsoo does. 

 

Everyone recognizes them. None of the clowns or men on stilts break character, but their smiles are knowing, their gazes linger a little longer, they wink playfully at them. No one else would know any better. But they do. Oh, they do. 

 

Chanyeol’s new assistant is a familiar, pretty face. It’s Seulgi, the girl he'd dated briefly before running away with the circus. He feels an undeniable sense of pride, joy, at the fact that she’s doing the same thing. He hopes it’s as beneficial for her as it was for him. If the way she steals fond little glances at Chanyeol is any indication, it appears it just might. 

 

Chanyeol has to continue with his show, but he smiles wider at Kyungsoo and Jongin than anyone else. He’s greatly missed him, in all his gangly glory. His booming voice a comfort to hear. He flies through the routine perfectly. Kyungsoo notes a few changes. 

 

The two of them carry on, after flashing Chanyeol departing smiles. They get caught up in the magic of it, once again. Giggling children, hearty carnival music, fairy lights and cotton candy. This atmosphere is utterly enchanting and Kyungsoo will never forget the way it makes him feel. 

 

They happen upon a familiar little tent. Kyungsoo can't contain the smile splitting his face. Jongin notices, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and giving him a squeeze. A familiar riddle on a familiar sign taunts them. 

 

_ Come inside _

 

_ If you dare _

 

_ I’ll buy your dreams _

 

_ If you're willing to share  _

 

Kyungsoo figures that he has much more to sell, this time around. The first time he read this riddle he was uninspired and lifeless. Today, he’s full of colour, full of ideals, full of whimsy. He’s happy. He’s unbelievably happy. 

 

Neither he or Jongin sit in the seat across the table from Baekhyun. They stand there with wide smiles on their faces. The fortune teller looks up at them, his expression in character before it disappears behind the brightest smile Kyungsoo’s ever seen. He practically knocks down the table, rushing over to pull them into a tight embrace. He holds onto Kyungsoo a little longer. Kyungsoo squeezes back. 

 

When Baekhyun pulls away, his eyes are shiny with tears. Kyungsoo realizes he’s tearing up, as well. 

 

“Welcome to the Fantastic Mr. Byun’s fortress,” Baekhyun sniffles, settling down in his seat and gesturing for the other two to do the same. Kyungsoo sits first, Jongin settling onto his lap. “Do you have any dreams to sell?”

 

Kyungsoo hums, tapping his chin. He’ll happily play along. “Yes, actually.”

 

Baekhyun smirks at Kyungsoo’s willingness. “Do tell.”

 

Jongin glances between them in amusement. Kyungsoo notices as modest silver ring on the fourth finger of his left hand. His hair has grown too long. That sparkle in his eye is still as mesmerizing. 

 

“I had this crazy dream,” Kyungsoo says with a smile, “that I ran away with the circus. And instead of being in a circus, I was born into this incredible family.”

 

Baekhyun’s smile is unprecedentedly warm. Kyungsoo squeezes his arms around Jongin’s waist. 

 

Kyungsoo continues, “I found love within this funny little family. Not only in the love of my life, but in those that annoyed me senseless. Like this crazy roommate of mine who cuddled like a koala bear.”

 

Baekhyun laughs, teary eyes glowing with the low light of the crystal ball. “Perhaps this roommate of yours just found you a very adequate source of warmth.”

 

“I never minded, though. Because I did love that roommate of mine very much.” Baekhyun lets a single tear fall. Kyungsoo blinks his away. “How are you, Baek?”

 

“Extremely happy, Kyungsoo. I’m so, so happy.”

 

That’s all Kyungsoo wanted to hear. 

 

There is no sense in denying that this circus is an incredible experience. Whether as an onlooker for a single night, or as a member of the family, in glitter and costume. He and Jongin laugh and cry and cheer through every performance. Yixing charms and sparkles in every way. Amber’s hair is still cut short. Junmyeon and Rinah still make the greatest team. And the acrobats. Oh, the acrobats. 

 

They twist and turn and flip and spin in impossible ways. They're mesmerizing, enchanting as always. Kyungsoo watches in amazement. He glances to his left, to see Jongin. 

 

Jongin is staring up at Sehun flying above their heads on the trapeze. It’s certain that Sehun is great at it. Jongin looks so wistful, somewhat absent, watching his oldest friend do what Jongin might miss most. Jongin may still have dance, but he’s never been able to replace the feeling of literally flying, far above the earth. 

 

Kyungsoo gives Jongin’s knee a squeeze. Jongin turns to look at him with teary eyes and a small smile. Neither of them say anything, but their eyes say enough. Kyungsoo is sorry. Jongin is not. Jongin is happy, and he is in love. 

 

And Kyungsoo is happy. Kyungsoo is also happy, and he is also in love. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> As always, my tumblr is taetaeofficial and my twitter is taebaekult.


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